I’ll try being nicer if you try being smarter!

Household Violence

So last night, the stars and planets aligned and we had just recently gone grocery shopping, and I was making food. Shocking.

When I was done and cleaning up, I went to go put some cans and stuff in the recycling container we have, in the little closet/storage space off of the kitchen. When I got to the door of said closet, I noticed several baby mosquitoes hanging out there. Sighing, I informed the boyfriend that he had approximately 2 minutes to take down the recycling, cuz his laziness was now turning our house into a fucking breeding ground for insects, which was not cool. Especially since I’d told asked him to do it a few days ago.

So boyfriend hauls down several stuffed bags and our huge ass garbage can on wheels full of recyclables. I laugh as he stumbles out of the apartment door, nearly spilling cans, bottles and papers of various sources all over the place. He returns quite some time later, saying that he had looked at some of the envelopes before throwing them in the recycling bins.

He shows me an envelope from my bank. This isn’t unusual, I never open a single fucking thing they send me. I don’t need to be depressed or angered by them, so I pretty much ignore them. He goes, ‘You almost threw this away.’ I go, ‘Yeah, I throw away all my statements’ (as you can see, I’m VERY worried about identity theft). He then opens it and proceeds to show me my new VISA.

The very same VISA I’d called the bank about and yelled at for not sending it to me! I’d made a big show on the phone about what morons they were and blah blah blah and what an inconvenience it was and yadda yadda yadda. So they cancelled my first VISA, cuz it was lost in the mail (read: in my recycling bin) and sent me out a new one. I was pissed, cuz I liked my old VISA number and now had to memorize another one. Turns out, I was once again foiled by my own laziness. Dammit!

I went over to the computer to look up the phone number so that I could beg to have my old VISA reinstated. As I sat down, I looked at the wall and noticed dozens of little blood sucking monsters sitting there. I tilted my gaze upwards and saw dozens more of the little fuckers. There were mosquitoes EVERYWHERE. I had gone the entire summer seeing not a one, and somehow, on the eve of October, we’d managed to become the equivalent of a mall to teenagers for these damn mosquitoes. They were all hanging out in our place.

My first reaction was to yell at the boyfriend, a la ‘Look what you did with your recycling laziness! May the green gods spite you!’. But then I realized that the window in the dining room was open. And there was a slit in the screen. Our defenses had been down and we had been invaded. We weren’t a breeding ground, which frankly, was a big relief.

Thus began our half hour long attack on the mosquitoes. Unfortunately our fly swatters had been eaten months earlier by our dog, so we were reduced to swatting at them with my bank statements that had come with my lost VISA. It was really quite hilarious. Two idiots being outwitted by whords of bugs, and a dog barking loudly after every ‘swat’ noise. I’m sure our neighbours loved us. After a while, I decided I didn’t care enough to keep killing them all, and went to bed.

I heard the boyfriend continuing the mission (he was more concerned cuz if anyone’s going to get bitten, it’s going to be him) through his random swats on the wall. The problem was the ceiling. It’s that lovely popcorny stuff, and it was hard to kill them, cuz they’d fit in the little crevices and would only be slightly bothered, not slaughtered. The boyfriend yells into the room something about vinegar. I say, ‘Okay’ to appease him. He likes when I respond to his inane banter.

Then I hear him yelling about apple cider vinegar. Whatever. I was trying to sleep. Then a few minutes later, I hear, ‘Oh God! It’s in my eye! I got it in my eye!!!! Owwwww!’ I feign interest and ask him what the hell he’s doing. Apparently he got it in his mind that it’d be a good plan to spray the bastards on the ceiling with diluted apple cider vinegar. It was working well, but he forgot to factor in for that pesky gravity and consequently got an eyeful of vinegar after his first spritz. I laughed at his dumb ass.

He stumbled into the bedroom, complained about his eye, turned around to leave and keep fighting the good fight, tripped on the dog and smashed his face into the door. Again, laugher ensued at his dumbassedness. It was pretty awesome.

I fell asleep and had pleasant dreams about lollipops and candy canes, forgetting the earlier bloodshed that had taken place. I was reminded of it this morning. The walls were covered in little mosquito bodies and their broken off legs, wings and other assorted body parts. It was creepy to say the least, eating breakfast in a room of corpses.

So I learned a few things last night. One, open my damned mail. Two, the boyfriend sometimes isn’t as smart as he may seem. Three, we need to buy some fly swatters and some duct tape (duct taaaaaaaaape, nice! to fix the screen obviously. It adds a touch of white trash class I think). Four, the boyfriend needs to work on his body removal skills and will be told that when I get home if there’s still dozens of dead mosquitoes on my walls. He jokes that it’s ‘a lesson to the others’.

But it isn’t funny. Seriously. They’re everywhere. Gross.


Comments on: "Household Violence" (5)

  1. OMG what a great story! I could just see him running around holding his eye although i keep picturing him hopping on one foot too. wierd…

  2. I hate those pesky bastards…you know the ones at the bank. 8) I always seem to end up on the wrong end of the argument when I call them. As for the mosquito’s I hate them too! If there are 100 people in a room and 1 mosquito…I get the prick!

  3. I knew somebody who got West Nile Virus. And this was before the big mosquito scare, so we were all like ‘where the hell ass have you been hanging out?!?’ She turned out to be okay though. But then she got sucked in by a cult. So, I guess she just wasn’t meant to be?

  4. He sounds like me. At least the smashing his face into the door after having already injured himself. 😛

  5. lonelygurl21 said:

    hehehe… i love the way you refer to your boyfriend as “the boyfriend”

    i came by way of leaf probaly… just thought i’d say hi

    Yes, I try to keep everyone except me and my dog anonymous. The boyfriend knows he’s mentioned in here often, but he’s generally anti-blog, so he’s never actually read about himself.
    And I gotta be honest….I totally stole the ‘the boyfriend’ thing from the Gilmore Girls. It wasn’t even my idea….:(

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