Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Quit bugging me

God has decided to have a little joke today, for Hallowe'en, and turn my house into some buggy version of Amityville Horror. As you lot know, I have a Serious Bug Phobia. Yesterday, I was baking a cake and right after I had got done mixing the batter I put away the mixer. I turned back to the mixing bowl, full of cake batter, and there in the midst of it was a daddy long legs (Note to Brit-type people: that's a type of big, scrawny long-leggedy spider here in the US, not a flying bug) making its way across the batter, dead in the center of the bowl. I have no idea where it came from. I waited for it to get to the edge of the bowl, let it crawl up a napkin I conveniently held out for it, and then squashed it. Yuck.

After the cake was done baking, I put it out to cool, and when I returned to the kitchen later, fuck me if there wasn't a mosquito on it, having a go. Now, it was a white cake, and all warm, so the mosquito might have mistaken it for an arm or something, but that was still not valid. I got the heebie-jeebies, and it reminded me of a bug version of that scene in "American Pie." Yuck, again. I tried to pick it and smush it, but it was too fast for me.

Much later, I was back in the kitchen, doing the dishes. I found out the mosquito was still in there, and had been joined by a fly. I do not appreciate bugs landing on me, nor sucking at me, but I had to get the dishes done. You know that video clip of that commercial with Michael J. Fox in it? The one that Rush Limbaugh's slagging him off about? The one where he spazzes out like a itchy break dancer on speed? Well, that's what I looked like, trying to keep that fly and mosquito from landing on me.

Much, much later, I was sitting at the computer, typing away. I may have had a few drinks in between, and forgotten to put away the fixin's. The Fledgling Sparrow comes out of her room, goes into the kitchen for a drink of water, looks at the kitchen counter, looks at me, and says, "Someone's been visiting Margaritaville."

Fucking teenagers. I drink to forget, you fucking teenager, I drink to forget!

Damn. Next time I should remember to put away the drink stuff.

Fat Sparrow


Foot Eater said...

We know very well what Daddy-long-legses are, thank you very much. In fact, our scientists invented them and sold them to your CIA.

Did you see any of those tiny monkeys that always seem to pour out of the walls in my house a day or so after I've had a few?

Philip said...

Daddies-long-legs, I think you'll find.

Old Knudsen said...

Michael J Fox will do anything for a cheap laugh, god bless him.

fatmammycat said...

Daddy long legs here are those really stupis big spindly fuckers that fly about at dusk and night time. I always worry about the stupid things falling into my mouth when I sleep. One of the cats is a champion bug killer however, blue bottles are his speciality.

Foot Eater said...

Oh, I don't know about that one, Philip. Tell you what, I'll grant you the oriented/orientated one over at Emerald Bile and we'll call it a draw, how about that?

Andraste said...

What IS it with that oriented/orientated thing? I always go with oriented...am I wrong? Orientated sounds ig'nrnt.

Fat Sparrow said...

Footie -- "We know very well what Daddy-long-legses are, thank you very much. In fact, our scientists invented them and sold them to your CIA."

You sick fuckers.

"Did you see any of those tiny monkeys that always seem to pour out of the walls in my house a day or so after I've had a few?"

Yes, they flew out of my ass. No, I'm not shoving them back in.

Philip -- "Daddies-long-legs, I think you'll find."

I don't know about your slag of a ma, but I only had one daddy.

Old Knudsen -- Well that explains his haircut.

Fatmammycat -- Over here we call those "Crane flies" or "mosquito hawks." I hate them, and am deathly afraid of them, as they do like to land on you. I had a cat that used to eat June bugs (a type of half-inch long brown flying beetle that only comes out around June). Every summer, my dad would leave a light on outside to attract them, and she would munch away on them. It sounded like a person eating popcorn. My dog likes to eat grubs, yuck.

Andraste -- "Oriented" is what they teach you in the Boy Scouts, and "orientated" is what Old Knudsen figures Footie is.

Philip said...


Long-legs is merely an affixed adjectival modification. Daddy is the noun, and therefore the bit which should take the plural ending. It self-evidently does not refer to anyone's paternal progenitor, as it is unusual, to say the least, for a member of either the Pholcidae or the Tipulidae to beget bloggers of any species.

Fat Sparrow said...

Philip -- Quit showing off already. You had me at "affixed adjectival modification."

Foot Eater said...

Isn't it possible that legs is the noun, long is an affixed adjectival modification, and Daddy is an adjective? It's not just any long-legs, it's the Daddy of them all.

Philip said...

If it's the Daddy of them all, Daddy is still a noun. You may have a point about long-legs, but Daddy has a more elegant plural, which is what started this whole dreary topic. It was the sight of the word legses that temporarily deprived me of that tolerant bonhomie which has made me loved and respected by anyone who knows what's good for them.

Foot Eater said...

So what you're saying, in a nutshell, Philip, is that I'm right and will be right in any further disputes. Yes, I can accept that.

Devin said...

So would a mozzy from your 'hood even know what a white arm was before landing at yours?
We've just had our first frost here and all those bastiges are dead.I fucking well hate mozzies.

Fat Sparrow said...

Yep, they sure would. We're the ones that glow in the dark when we step outside at night. They'll zero in from miles around, the prejudiced little bastards.

First frost? You lucky git. It was 82 degrees here today. Autumn, my arse.