Friday, April 22, 2005

Giant Roaches Eat My Dirty Socks

We've got a bug infestation. Our roach motels are full. There are no vacancies. As a result, we have a number of nomad roaches bumming around our kitchen at night. I do not fear roaches. As long as they don't infiltrate our food supplies, I think I can live in relative harmony with them. We seem to have come to some understanding. They can hang out in our dirty dishes while the lights are off, but they must be out of sight while the lights are on. Hanging out in our clean dishes is a no-no. Running around our countertops is verboten. In fact, they are not allowed anywhere that is visible if it is also clean. They are also not allowed to be out in groups of more than five at a time. These rules may seem a little fascist, but considering the alternative for them--being bludgeoned to death with a large blunt object--it's very reasonable.

More to the point, and by that I mean "on a completely different subject," I think Superman might be gay. This, frankly, would not surprise me. While I'm sure there are plenty of heterosexual men who love running around in a bright blue unitard, red cape, and with their underwear on the outside of their pants (or rather, legs of their unitard), it takes a certain kind of man to do it with such panache. And that kind of man is (probably) gay.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

we had giant bougie roaches...thought they deserved 5-star hotel treatment. preposterous. luckily our poor living conditions weren't up to par with their standards, so they vacated.