I just saw a roach!

I used to work in a building in Texas that had so many roaches, we’d have who-can-catch-the-most-roaches-over-the-weekend contests. We’d take a bit of cake or something, put it at the bottom of a tall glass, and leave it out on our desks. Come Monday, there’d be a nice collection of the little buggers waiting our disposal pleasure.

But they deserved it. I swear, there was one imported variety of roach there that would walk across my desk, stop in the middle, sit down, look up at me, and say, “Nyah nyah nyah! WE RULE THE EARTH!”

Best way I’ve found to get rid of roaches? Let your cat do it. I’ve had several cats who thought they were the best taste treats going! “Yumm, protein!”

Michael Ellis:

sc913:

So what? My mother once woke up with a roach thoroughly smashed in her ear. I had to tell her about it, too, and she didn’t believe me until she looked in the mirror.
“Well, mother, this won’t be pleasant, but…”

Chocroaches!

:eek:

::shudders uncontrollably::

Yuck.

Generally, I do not have a roach problem, though occasionally I will see one or two little ones if it is around time to change the traps. Anyway, on Sunday night, I had to get something out of the cabinet under my bathroom sink. I had to look twice, because I was sure I was only imagining what I saw. Surely, roaches this big do not exist. Looking again was a big mistake. Trying to hide behind my refill bottle of hand soap (it was too big to effectively hide there) was the biggest freaking roach I had ever seen. It had to be a few inches long, at least. The apartment shook when it scuttled.

Several days passed, with me banging the cabinet door a bit as a prelude every time I opened it, in the hopes that the roach would have the sense to hide before I opened the door. I did not see the roach in this period of time, and was lulled into a sense of security.

A horribly, horribly false sense of security! I went into the bathroom to wash my face before bed Wednesday night, and what was clinging to the side of my medicine cabinet? Why, the biggest freaking roach I had ever seen. It had, of course, managed to wedge itself on the part of the medicine cabinet behind the mirror door that left it partially sheltered from any shoe that might try to crush it. At any event, I was leery of any crushing attempts, as I would have to hear the crunching and clean up the mess afterward (assuming it did not scuttle out of the way). Besides, I did not want to merely wound it, thus enraging it and sending it after me.

I rescued my face soap and toothbrush from the bathroom and got ready for bed in the kitchen. The next morning, the fucker was still there on the bathroom mirror. I bought deodorant and hairspray on the way to work, because I sure as hell wasn’t going to open the medicine cabinet and have the thing fall on me. As I was putting on my makeup in the bathroom mirror, two horrible long antennae waved mockingly at me from above the top of the mirror.

I thought if I gave it a name, I would hate it less. This did not work. Throughout the day, my anger toward Seabiscuit grew to epic proportions. I ran across the street and bought a big can of Raid. On the way out, I noticed some nifty bug vacuums for sale, but my concern that Seabiscuit was too big to be effectively subdued by such an item led me forego buying one.

On the way home, I planned my strategy. I would drown Seabiscuit in Raid. I would keep a plastic bag handy, in case he tried to run. Then, I could trap him, tie it off, and toss him back into the wild. Upon getting home, I spent a half hour or so mentally preparing. Then, I edged into the bathroom, checking the mirror for signs of my new pet.

Seabiscuit had vanished. I can only hope that he learned of my plans to wipe him from the face of the earth, and sought a more big roach-friendly environment.

:shudders for about the tenth time reading this thread:

Ok, you “win”. Now excuse me while I go put some cotton in my ears.

Mr. Levins’ brother had a roach crawl into his ear and die.

He didn’t even know about it until he got massive earaches that wouldn’t respond to normal treatment. The Doc finally prescribed some of that ear-wax-melting stuff, to help clear his ear canals out…

And out rolled a dead, decomposing roach. It hadn’t been able to escape his ear, thanks to the wax, and there it died.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

clears throat

I’m okay now. Really. Someday I’ll get over this story completely; until then, all I can do is share the horror with others.

Well then, you would have loved the time my hubby and I came home from town one night and stepped in the house to find a large (I believe that it’s already been mentioned that the roaches are quite big in Alabama) cockroach scurrying across the vinyl flooring. Hubby made a mad dash to stomp it before it could take cover and managed to catch it on one end, causing the contents of the roach to SQUIRT out the other end. GRR-ross!! Even now, thinking about it gives me full body shudders!

AmyG, I note that you live in NYC, and that you did not have a bottle of Raid handy in your house, but actually had to go across the street to buy one upon seeing a roach. Surely this is as clear a case of the triumph of hope over experience as I have ever seen.

Okay, once again, after reading an incredibly horrifying thread like this, I am thanking my Creator that I live someplace that can kill me when I step outside for three-quarters of the year, instead of someplace that has bugs like this.

For some reason this story totally cracked me up - very funny.
Thank you for sharing.

Why do I continue to read this thread? Is it because of some perverse need for self-flagellation? WHY?!?

Now a story:
My godmother’s mother is sort of… funny. When visiting her, there were always roaches crawling over everything. Literally hundreds. You’d turn on the light in her kitchen, and scores of them would slowly scatter. (Why slowly? Cause they knew they weren’t going to get smashed.)

The only thing that made it even remotely bearable was that they were relatively tiny roaches. You would sit in her living room and watch them crawl all over the carpet, all over the chair you were sitting in, everything. It was mesmerizing. There were so many, you didn’t even bother trying to stomp on any of them because it was so obviously pointless.

Anyway, she got really sick (almost died) and had to stay in the hospital for a while a few years ago. The only good thing that came out of it was that all the roaches died for lack of food.

What I still don’t understand is why this was allowed to happen in an assisted living facility. I mean, granted it was the kind with maximum autonomy and stuff, but still, didn’t they clean rooms once in a while?! (Though like I said, she’s a bit off, so that may have had something to do with it.)

Okay, my skin is crawling from reading this thread, so now, lucky Dopers, the time has come for me to bust out the Worst Roach Story Ever until the next one comes along®

One East End home I lived in developed a chronic roach problem. It was a duplex, so it had the built-in advantage of having someone else to blame for being the dirty bastids who brought the roaches in. I won’t bore you all with the long and tedious account of the lengthy and futile struggle to keep their numbers down with various and sundry pesticidal measures, but instead skip ahead to the day that still gives me night terrors:

One day, I spotted a bit of movement on the microwave oven’s LED clock. Closer investigation revealed nothing untoward. Maybe a week later, when I went to heat up some food, I espied a fat roach sitting right on the LED readout – behind the plastic. This didn’t do much for my appetite. “My god!” I thought, “a roach has managed to get in there, and since I saw some movement there last week, it doesn’t look to be going anywhere soon.” The vaguely unsettling idea of it dying in there occured to me. Who wants to cook your food in something that has a dead bug in it?

So I moved the thing onto the kitchen table where I could get at it. Keep in mind that this is in the mid-eighties, and the thing was a behemoth by today’s standards. I located the screws that were holding the cover on and removed them, and then slid the whole works off.

And then I screamed. Like a little girl. Suddenly there was a confusion of motion. Roaches seemed to pour like fluid from the interior of this neat little device in which I prepared food for convenient consumption several times a day. Roaches ran up my arms, both inside and outside my shirtsleeves. They were in my hair. Inumerable scurrying things, radiating outwards from the opened oven.

I had a friend standing my impotently with an aerosol can of Raid. The offending oven was carried outside, roaches still dropping from it. Apparently, every cubic centimetre of its interior had been occupied by roaches.

The microwave, apparently, was the roaches’ home base. IT was the reason we were fighting a losing war, no matter how carefully we sealed our food in impenetrable containers for storage, how dilligently we cleaned every exposed surface in the kitchen, and how liberally we dispensed lethal chemicals. “Here’s a place they won’t think to fumigate!” the cunning little fuckers schemed. “Nobody sprays where they eat!” Even better, it was a constant source of vapourized and evenly-distributed nourishment for them. AAAAAAGH!

You know They Just Creep Up On You, in Creepshow? Small stuff, strictly.

After the microwave was thoroughly dismantled and sanitized, our roach problem vanished practically overnight.

I’ve never lived with roaches again, thank god. They’re just about the only excuse for arson I can imagine. “Sorry, Mr. Landlord, but the roaches just took it.”

Speaking of roach guillotines: Someone once pointed a roach on my desk at work. I hit it with the pen I was holding and did a perfect decapitation. Nobody could believe it.

Because we manage several apartment buildings with very nasty people as tenants, we get to buy industrial strength insecticide. Not pretty stuff, but it really does the job.

Ever since Mr Baboon pointed out how much roaches resemble lobsters, I haven’t had much of an appetite for lobster.

Just thought I would share that with you.

Roaches:Humans::Humans:Dinosaurs

[sub]say hello to the Earth’s next dominant species

Try that again

Roaches:Humans::Humans:Dinosaurs

[sub]say hello to the Earth’s next dominant species[/sub]