Vance G was a crazy character. On the way back from away football games he would lead the team in singing, “spent the last year Rocky Mountain way,” then the team sang “ba na na na,” and then Vance, “couldn’t get much higher.” The team sang, “ba na na na.” This bonded us. He even sang it after a loss, which infuriated our head coach.
Later in life we shared a house. He was a womanizer which was fine with me. We had women coming and going. The sounds emanating from his room became a bit much, so I wore earplugs. When three of his rent checks bounced, we got into a fist fight. After that our friendship was never the same. He died several years back at the age of fifty from a brain infection. He will not be forgotten by me and not by many women.
I woke up this morning with a stinkbug in my hair. It farted and left a terrible smell.
I had to get up and shower immediately. I did get to smack it three times with a hammer and then burnt it with my lighter. I enjoyed this.
The nasty creatures have become a menace and are now my roommates.
The other day there was one on the bristles of my toothbrush. I shrieked like I always do when I’m startled and pitched the toothbrush into the un-flushed toilet.
The toothbrush was floating on top of a dookie–the stinkbug, captain of a stinking ship. I’m sure it thought I was attacking it with an out-of-this-world odor.
Oh well, there goes another one down the drain.
I am going to torture the next stinkbug. I tortured roommates before, but that was in college. I may pull a leg off or cover him with preparation H. Stinkbugs watch out: I’ve got insecticide, a hammer, tweezers, and a magnifying glass ready to go.