An Open Letter to My Roommates

This is it. I have had enough. I thought we had a deal - an agreement. You stick to your part of the house, I stick to mine. We divided up the house. You got the basement, I got the upstairs. But apparently I am the only one honoring the deal. I catch you hanging out on the stairs, stealing after my food, and going in my bathroom. In the middle of the night, I find you padding around the house with the lights off. But this, this is the last straw. What were you doing snooping around my bedroom? Yeah, I know, we were raised differently. We are not the same type of people. But I am not prejudiced; I have been teaching my kids to respect your kind. However, enough is enough - this is your last chance.

Mister giant, bulbous spider (that runs faster than the Creator intended): You are to never set foot on the wall of my shower again; especially not in the middle of the night. And to you, the legions of earwigs: I realize that your pinchers are harmless, but you may no longer haunt my kitchen sink again. And do not hide under my bath towels. Go outside and creep between the multitudes of toys that litter the backyard. And finally, my arch-nemesis, the giant, mutant centipede: I use the term loosely, because you clearly have more than a hundred freakish legs. Did you not get the memo explaining the Latin prefix of your kind? With your giant antennae waving you travel faster than even the spiders. Get yourself to the basement, for I can no longer tolerate finding you walking across the couch that I often nap on! Oh what horrors have you perpetrated while I have been asleep there?

So the decision is yours, members of the insect and arachnid worlds. Return to your homes in the basement or face final consequences. You are undoubtedly familiar with the giant, black creature named Chloe - half Labrador, half Dalmatian? The beast who’s primary, nay, only goal is to spend every waking hour searching for food to stuff in her unholy maw? Return or I will unleash her on your clammy, basement homes where she will gorge on your protein-rich bug-flesh until her muzzle is wrapped in spider webs and her fur is drenched with your disgusting, yellow bug-blood!

Wait till you find out what’s in and all over your body.

Arachnids must die!

It probably isn’t a good time to mention all the silverfish lurking about…

Well, what do you expect when you live in a cave?

Speaking of which, how many spiders is it that we’re supposed to swallow in our sleep over a lifetime?

I’d tape my mouth shut at night if I were you.

Applauds the OP.

Yes! I feel exactly the same way about these horrid beasties, but you expressed the feeling much more eloquently and funnily than I could.

Unleash the hound on them!

Excellent rant. Good pacing, delightful flow. I give it a solid eight out of ten!

Excalibre, you should know better.

Lurking? Lurking? You mean in my coffee cup in the sink overnight? In my kid’s lunchbox this morning? Round and round in the kitchen light fixture like it’s the farking Rollerdome? You call that “lurking?”

'Cause I don’t.

Wanna get away from it all? Come to the beach! Get nice and comfy on your blanket, even though it’s cool and overcast.

Ah! Here comes the sun! How delightful! How…

Here come the greenheads.

AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!! Run for the car!

Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. I was just trying to have some fun at the OP’s expense. You “accuracy” and “truth” and “reality” people take the fun out of everything, you know!

SILVERfish!? :eek:
We’re RICH!!! :cool: