April 20, 2008

Come Do A Fun Thing

On Monday, April 21, 7:15 PM Decatur Library, 215 Sycamore Street, I will be in Decatur to listen to Joe Formichella and Suzanne Hudson
speak about their books, Murder Creek: The Unfortunate Incident of Annie Barnes and In a Temple of Trees,
both written about a chilling, and still unsolved, 1966 Alabama murder. Hudson’s book, a debut work of fiction was inspired by this case and published to acclaim in 2003. Formicella, inspired by Hudson and surviving family members, launched a personal campaign to get to the bottom of this case, a tale of greed, race, and corruption.

You come, too?

Meanwhile, a palmetto bug attacked my friend Mir in her OWN house, and her response?
She sprayed it with 409 cleaner, CAPTURED it UNDER A GLASS and then made someone TAKE IT OUTSIDE AND RELEASE IT. As if it were a wounded BABY DEER.

This is clinically INSANE.

If you let them OUTSIDE, they make GENETICALLY MUTATED 409 RESISTANT OFFSPRING and then come back in to find you utterly defenseless and then they kill you and eat you. I saw it in a movie in late night TV once, and so therefore it is true.

They must be mashed into paste, and then the paste burned, and then 1/3 of the paste ashes should released into the wind, while another 1/3 is buried deep in the earth and the last 1/3rd is submerged in running water while you say a Hail Mary.

In fact, the BEST solution for a palmetto bug is to leave the planet and nuke the house from orbit. It's the only way to be sure.

I love Mir but I told my friend Karen that I can never go back to her house because I KNOW that bug came right back in. He is in the guest bed, crouched at the bottom. Waiting. To touch me with his creepy bug feet.

KAREN says that SHE thinks Mir should win a thoughtful hostess and Bugmanitarian combo award because NOT ONLY did she SAVE the bug, but if he SHOULD come back in and wait in the bed to touch me with his creepy feet, I can rest easy, knowing said feet have recently been thoroughly cleaned by 409.

I am unamused.

Posted by joshilyn at April 20, 2008 4:09 PM

Well that settles it -- I should just invite KAREN to come stay, next time.

Do not fret, Tulip. My here The Bug Man comes this week.

Posted by: Mir at April 20, 2008 5:23 PM

When I read that story I too thought Mir had 'gone round the bend'. But now that Karen has brought up that the bug's feet would now be clean, perhaps you could bring a Pedegg when next you visit. Then it's teensy feets will be smooth too.

Posted by: pam at April 20, 2008 6:02 PM

One of the reasons that I seriously heart living in the Pacific Northwest, despite volcanos and tsunamis and earthquakes and floods and forest fires and SNOW IN APRIL, is because we don't have those things.

In New Mexico, lots of people use pecan shells as ground covering; it's pretty and ecologically friendly and doesn't need maintenance. Cockroaches live in them and you cannot. see. them. Until they move.

I'm with you. Nuke 'em from space. You and me and Sigourney and Michael can sit and watch 'em burn.

Posted by: Fran at April 20, 2008 6:52 PM

Palmetto bugs are of the devil! I bet that one is waiting at the foot of the bed, just waiting, thinking, "Mmm! Salty people!"

Posted by: Haley at April 21, 2008 12:17 AM

Can they walk on the ceiling? And say, accidentally fall right onto your face while you're sleeping? EEeeurgh, I need some bleach now.

Posted by: Brigitte at April 21, 2008 7:01 AM

My husband is not afraid of anything except walking sticks and palmetto bugs. . .which we called "wood roaches" where I grew up in Louisiana. I thought ALL roaches were that size until I moved elsewhere and saw these little tiny things that everyone was screaming about. It was laughable. Seriously. . .those teeny-weeny things are NOT roaches--they are roach wannabees.

Posted by: Roxanne at April 21, 2008 8:51 AM

EEW. Eew eew eew eew. Thank you SO much for sharing. Not.

Posted by: Amy-Go at April 21, 2008 2:30 PM

Did I ever tell you about my boyfriend who came to Hawaii with me, one spring break? We're sitting out in the moonlight on my godmother Charla's terrace, and this palmetto bug flies out of the buddha-pool and hits said boyfriend smack in the middle of his forehead.

He said, "Oh, yeah, bugs have always loved me since that time I was tripping and I rescued a cockroach from a swimming pool."

We were not an item for long.

Posted by: Cornelia Read at April 21, 2008 2:43 PM

I'm not really sure the whole "nuke the house" plan is a great idea either. I think that's how those darn things got so big to begin with. They are really Chernobyl roaches who found the Southeastern US much more palatable than the former USSR - for so many reasons.

Truly the only way to deal with palmetto bugs is to beat the hell out of them with a Reebok until their bodies are nothing but goo. THEN leave the planet. Just on principle.

Posted by: buffi at April 21, 2008 2:56 PM

I'm the hypocrite that won't kill spiders myself, but WILL nag the shit out of you until you kill them for me. Last weekend while my boyfriend was at work he received FIFTEEN frantic text messages from me in the space of 30 minutes, chronicling The Tale of the Mutant Black Widow That Stalked Me All Over Our Condo, omg. (not a black widow.) In my defense... it was big, it was FAST, and it really and truly did follow me all over the damn place until Nick got home and... took care of it. Not with a bottle of 409 and a reintroduction into the wild. :)

Posted by: Kimmers at April 21, 2008 4:09 PM

I'm a really big girl. Nothing on this Earth can scare me except one little thing. I've picked up snakes in the wild. I've helped a Mama cat give birth. But man-O-man, all six feet of me will quiver with ickyness and I'll squiggle my hands up around my head when I see, what my niece called when she was two, a "CROACH". I get grossed out. I get all goozle-y. Then, I get PISSED. At a friend's barbeque one day, I found (purely by accident, because it was just in my hand at the moment) that the citrus-based Veggie Wash you can buy in the produce section will kill the bastards almost instantly because it DISSOLVES the slickery, waxy coating on their crunchy, disgusting bodies. You can almost hear them gasping their last, croachy breath. Blecchhh. Flehhh. Glooodllle. Ewwww. I have to go wash my hands now.

Posted by: Jill at April 21, 2008 5:04 PM

Disgusting as that is, Jill, it's actually really good to know!

Posted by: Fran at April 21, 2008 6:15 PM

In college, I learned that if you spray a bug with enough Country Fresh Scent Lysol, it will slow in its tracks and eventually die.

An unexpected benefit is that Country Fresh Scent Lysol smells remarkably like Calvin Klein's Eternity for Men, so if there is a man in your life you need to disinfect and wish to smell more aromatic, Country Fresh Scent Lysol is the way to go.

Posted by: Jef at April 21, 2008 7:04 PM

Fran, Jill is also good to know if you need a homemade mint/hemp lip balm, or Bananarama-themed bath soap.

Posted by: Jef at April 21, 2008 7:07 PM

you are SO funny. i've recently read TGWSS and just loved it. i've read all 3 of your books, and loved them all - please keep turning them out!!! what's NEXT??
a fan in WACO, TEXAS!!!!

Posted by: Pam at April 22, 2008 11:24 AM

Hey, Jef, thanks for that shameless plug! And Fran, I'm glad to be of help. I sincerely hope you never NEED to use Veggie Wash on a nasty-crawly croach, but file that puppy away jus' in case.

Posted by: Jill at April 22, 2008 3:48 PM