First, let me just say that I have been cleaning up my website, and getting all the profanity off, and not swearing, and only swearing phonetically with my handy dandy chart you can find on my blog, but today there WILL be swearing, so if you are offending, do NOT read today's blog because Momma is PISSED! I saw something today that made my skin crawl, and my soul just want to cry. What the hell is wrong with humanity?
I clicked a link on my homepage today because I wanted to see what the latest news was on Isaac the Hurricane that is sweeping through the South today, on the eve of the 7 year Anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. Which, to me is an amazing, and scary coincidence. I wanted to see if it had gotten any worse, or if maybe , just maybe it had changed it's mind, and fizzled away. No..No..In THIS article it does say what is going on with the hurricane and then it says this....."The storm has churned into the middle of the tight U.S. presidential election, with Republicans this week meeting nearby in Florida to nominate Mitt Romney to challenge President Barack Obama".. WTF??!!! Who Gives a shit?? Unless those two Mother Fuckers are going to go fight in a head to head death match in the eye of the storm, I don't give a flying fuck! What the hell do two fucktard politician asshats have anything to do with a devastating NATURAL occurrence that will claim lives, destroy homes, businesses, and families? Tell me this MSNBC?
Fucking morons will stop at nothing to promote this political asshattery! It's disgusting! Am I wrong? Did this just crawl up my butt wrong? Because I'm pretty sure this is just sick, and sad, and just plain horrible.
Aug 29, 2012
Aug 24, 2012
That time I went to jail...
That's right! I'ze been to jail! What?! You didn't think they could catch leprechauns did you? They caught this one.
<-- Really wish I drew this, but I found it on Google images after I typed in Leprechaun in jail, for an extra giggle, type that in... funny stuff there. Like this:
<--- What the hotel does this have to do with leprechauns, whatsoever? Although, You have to love that his name is Bob Barker. And That it is WTVF, which can only lead to fun times discerning new words for the V.
Anywho.. Back to me, and mah gansta Bravo self! Years ago, I got picked up at 5:00 in the morning by some of the county's finest. I won't say which county, but I will say slackjawed, inbreeding, pig-foxtrotting, backwoods, over the mountain yokels. Officers Daffy and Laffy came into the home unannounced to arrest me, in front of my children, put me in the car and drove me to the station. Because "they had 'wurrents' and I was a flight risk".. .. .. Say what now? At the station, they called the magistrate, let me tell you how happy she was to have been awakened by Daffy and Laffy.... Not. And after an hour or so, they realized that they had not only picked up the wrong person, but that the person in question was supposed to be a male. Back then I was a bit plumper, had longer hair, and actual boobs. Really? Really Daffy? And Laffy? I could understand now. With the short hair, I weigh nothing soaking wet, no boobs left because of the weight loss. I could let it slide..a bit.
So, they apologized, and sat me down in the waiting room. 20 minutes later, Daffy came in, pleased as punch, to let me know that he had indeed found a warrant for me. He was so proud. You would have thought he had crapped the biggest crap in the crap your own float parade! And then he proceeded to stick me into the drunk tank. WHAT? WHY? Why does it smell so bad? Everything smells like piss in here! So, I cried. A lot. I'm not proud of that. During those bright shining moments of my existence, a face came to the window..not just any face mind you, the goofiest ass face I have ever seen in my life! And he just stood there, breath fogging up the glass with his huge teeth, bulbous nose pressed against the window, and the biggest, thickest glasses I had ever laid my eyes on just a'starin at me.. Then he says.. YUUUR PUUURDY! Through the glass... and just kept on a'starin... That's when I lost my sh*t. I bawled like someone just shot my pony.
Hours later, deputies arrived from another county to transport me. Evidently they did indeed find a warrant. For failure to appear in court. For bouncing a $20 check to a pizza joint, a year before, that I paid back. That's right! I had even taken care of it! They failed to let the court know however, and I spent 4 days in jail because of it. Friday, Friday night, Saturday, Saturday night, Sunday, Sunday night, and Monday. I typed all of that out because each minute feels like 30 in jail. It's dirty, and sad. I had never been in any trouble before, hadn't done anything wrong that time, and was Mad, and Sad. Taking a growler in a tiny toilet on camera isn't MY idea of a good time either.
Not to mention the crap they put into the food and water. Saltpeter. Oh yeah! They sho nuff did! So, you are constantly thirsty. Constantly starving, I tell you, I have NEVER been so hungry as I was in jail, we fell on that food every time they brought it in like starving wolves.
Every Saturday night in jail, it's quiet. Why? The entire prison is watching Cops. Swear! They all love it! Crowded around the TV like little kids. And a lot of card playing. I still can't play cards without thinking about it.
After four, count them four court appearances, and 40 hours of community service, for something I didn't even do, I finally got the charges dismissed. I had to threaten my ever so talented court appointed lawyer with all kinds of nasty things before he finally got that taken care of. I had to go myself and get proof that the pizza place wasn't even in business anymore.
And that my dear readers was a time in my life I like to think of as just plain F***ed Up.
Anywho.. Back to me, and mah gansta Bravo self! Years ago, I got picked up at 5:00 in the morning by some of the county's finest. I won't say which county, but I will say slackjawed, inbreeding, pig-foxtrotting, backwoods, over the mountain yokels. Officers Daffy and Laffy came into the home unannounced to arrest me, in front of my children, put me in the car and drove me to the station. Because "they had 'wurrents' and I was a flight risk".. .. .. Say what now? At the station, they called the magistrate, let me tell you how happy she was to have been awakened by Daffy and Laffy.... Not. And after an hour or so, they realized that they had not only picked up the wrong person, but that the person in question was supposed to be a male. Back then I was a bit plumper, had longer hair, and actual boobs. Really? Really Daffy? And Laffy? I could understand now. With the short hair, I weigh nothing soaking wet, no boobs left because of the weight loss. I could let it slide..a bit.
So, they apologized, and sat me down in the waiting room. 20 minutes later, Daffy came in, pleased as punch, to let me know that he had indeed found a warrant for me. He was so proud. You would have thought he had crapped the biggest crap in the crap your own float parade! And then he proceeded to stick me into the drunk tank. WHAT? WHY? Why does it smell so bad? Everything smells like piss in here! So, I cried. A lot. I'm not proud of that. During those bright shining moments of my existence, a face came to the window..not just any face mind you, the goofiest ass face I have ever seen in my life! And he just stood there, breath fogging up the glass with his huge teeth, bulbous nose pressed against the window, and the biggest, thickest glasses I had ever laid my eyes on just a'starin at me.. Then he says.. YUUUR PUUURDY! Through the glass... and just kept on a'starin... That's when I lost my sh*t. I bawled like someone just shot my pony.
Hours later, deputies arrived from another county to transport me. Evidently they did indeed find a warrant. For failure to appear in court. For bouncing a $20 check to a pizza joint, a year before, that I paid back. That's right! I had even taken care of it! They failed to let the court know however, and I spent 4 days in jail because of it. Friday, Friday night, Saturday, Saturday night, Sunday, Sunday night, and Monday. I typed all of that out because each minute feels like 30 in jail. It's dirty, and sad. I had never been in any trouble before, hadn't done anything wrong that time, and was Mad, and Sad. Taking a growler in a tiny toilet on camera isn't MY idea of a good time either.
Not to mention the crap they put into the food and water. Saltpeter. Oh yeah! They sho nuff did! So, you are constantly thirsty. Constantly starving, I tell you, I have NEVER been so hungry as I was in jail, we fell on that food every time they brought it in like starving wolves.
Every Saturday night in jail, it's quiet. Why? The entire prison is watching Cops. Swear! They all love it! Crowded around the TV like little kids. And a lot of card playing. I still can't play cards without thinking about it.
After four, count them four court appearances, and 40 hours of community service, for something I didn't even do, I finally got the charges dismissed. I had to threaten my ever so talented court appointed lawyer with all kinds of nasty things before he finally got that taken care of. I had to go myself and get proof that the pizza place wasn't even in business anymore.
And that my dear readers was a time in my life I like to think of as just plain F***ed Up.
Aug 17, 2012
Helloo... is it..
Tea You're looking for...
By the love of all that is good and fluffy in this crazy mixed up world, why. oh why??!! do I not have this tea pot?? WHY? It's like it was made for me!! THAT is by far the funniest tea pot in the history of tea pots ever, ever made! Who would not love to have this tea pot on their shelf? Not me, I would put that *MamaFoxtrot* on my desk at work! OOHH! Or on a little table in the foyer at home that way everyone will see it when they come in the front door, it will have to have a special little box so that no one will knock it over and break it! Because they would...Breaky Breakersons!
By the love of all that is good and fluffy in this crazy mixed up world, why. oh why??!! do I not have this tea pot?? WHY? It's like it was made for me!! THAT is by far the funniest tea pot in the history of tea pots ever, ever made! Who would not love to have this tea pot on their shelf? Not me, I would put that *MamaFoxtrot* on my desk at work! OOHH! Or on a little table in the foyer at home that way everyone will see it when they come in the front door, it will have to have a special little box so that no one will knock it over and break it! Because they would...Breaky Breakersons!
Aug 16, 2012
Barefoot Little Country Brat
You don't ever grow out of who you are as a child. As a child, I was a little barefoot farm girl. I was outside almost all day, every day. I did indeed have a red neck, and I'm proud of it. I worked my little butt off. I could sling hay bales, carry feed, haul buckets, and damn near anything else that had to be done just as fast as anyone else could and I was a just a little skinny obnoxious runt. And we did that rain or shine, hot or cold, snow, ice, and if there was snow and ice, we fed and watered the animals in the morning and evening because their water would freeze, so did the hose, so I carried it down in 5 gallon buckets that sploshed on my legs, and then froze on me. That makes you tough though.
My parents listened to Bluegrass and John Denver, and today the 'Orange Blossom Special' takes me back and makes me feel like that little kid again. You have to be Country (yep, capital C) to even know what that song even is, or to remember Roy Clark doing his version of it, and rolling his eyes around while he played that fiddle.
Country people are completely different than anyone else. We are just a different breed. Common sense was taught to us strenuously, because in the country you have to have it. You need to be careful, and to be prepared. My sister and her husband are perfect examples of the differences between 'Country folk' and 'City folk'. When Country folk walk, we predominantly watch the ground before us, in the country you have to. There could be snakes, wild animals, boards with nails sticking up (ever stepped on a nail barefoot? it hurts like a MamaFoxtrot) broken glass at the river from some *Foxtroting DeltaHotel* partying, bees, etc. City Folk walk with their heads up, watching the people around them so they don't get mugged, and they look in store windows, they have to watch for traffic lights, read signs, etc. It's entirely different. So when they walk together, they haven't quite blended yet and found a way to harmonize the two so that they are watching out for everything together.
We ate differently and had Sunday dinner every single Sunday no fail, talked differently, (f%$k yall), dressed differently, I wore Biballs, that's right, I betcha don't even know what those are! I will never forget the time we served my Aunt Cathy rabbit, and told her it was chicken, and she raved about how it was the best chicken she had ever had... then she puked for an hour when we told her it was Bunny FooFoo. Poor thing. Rabbit is delicious... Of course that made me the weird kid at school. Shocking, I know.
So, what happens when you were also raised at another household in town? You get me. See, my sweet, adorable 4'10" little grandma, (I miss her so!) lived in town, and that was the polar opposite, of my life at home. I spent most of my weekends there, summers, holidays, etc. So, yep.. I'm doubly weird, because I was raised two different ways. City and Country. I watch everything when I walk Bitches! And now that I'm an adult, and not that gangly awkward little kid (God, that poor kid, I still feel sorry for her) I'm proud to be me. I'm still awkward as all get out. But, that's what makes me who I am. Weird, yes. Different, hell yes!
And now.... Ganstagrass!!! City and County!! What?!! Yeeauuh!
Aug 9, 2012
Nothin' but net!
I am nothing if not graceful let me tell you! They should have just named my ass Grace and gotten it over with when I was born. I float like a freaking butterfly. I'm a gazelle! Sure, maybe the butterfly has one wing down, and the gazelle has 3 legs.. So?
<----------- Might as well be me
I have the uncanny knack of being able to fall, trip, face plant, nosedive, and crash land randomly. Seemingly just for the express purpose of doing so. Last night for instance, there I was, happily attempting to skip a rock, and down I went. Only just my leg went down. Aliced into a hole, but it was a hole that was made from where a dam used to be, so I landed between concrete and concrete. Flat on my ass, with my entire leg stuck down a hole with concrete on each side. Grace. That kind of grace and dexterity MUST take skill. And me being me, the immense hideous pain that followed caused me laugh hysterically.
I'm one of those. If it hurts really bad, I laugh. Especially if it's a fall, and it hurts like a mother. My sister is the same way, and she was standing right beside me, so she got to enjoy my fall at least, but was SO sad everyone else missed it! I feel bad for her. Everyone had just turned their backs looking for rocks or some such nonsense and down I go like a tonka truck over a rooftop, and everyone misses it but her! It was one of those moments you don't get to share with anyone.
Kinda like the time my poor Mom was having surgery, really scary surgery so we were at the hospital waiting, and decided to go wander into the gift shop and take a gander since they were finally open, and we'd been sitting there going crazy for hours. So, my Dad and I wander in, browsing along (I need to mention that my Daddy looks like someone from ZZ Top, usually people don't fool with him at all) and I happen to hear the little old gift shop lady ask my Dad "Wanna see my Beaver?" and I whip around and look at her and then at him, and she has this stuffed Beaver on the Counter.. and his face! ooooohh his face! Mortified! And I'm looking all around us, but there is no one, NO ONE to share this moment with! And gleefully she presses a button on the beavers paw, and it starts singing a Justin Bieber song. (it was a Justin Beaver..yeaaah) So, she says "Isn't that a clever Beaver?" I can't make this crap up people! She was 80 if she was a day! And still there is me, desperate for someone to share this with.. but no..
ok..
That's how my sister felt I'm sure.
I've always been a little klutzy dork. I used to fall down the stairs so much that I still have nightmares about stairs. I fell down them so much my parents wouldn't even come check on my tangled heap at the bottom anymore. They'd just hear the telltale Ka-thump-a-whumping of my breakneck descent and say "Kelly fell down the stairs again" and continue on about their business. I'm still convinced that the ghost in the house was trying to kill me but that's another story and it makes me look crazier than I usually do!
http://iblog4.me
I have the uncanny knack of being able to fall, trip, face plant, nosedive, and crash land randomly. Seemingly just for the express purpose of doing so. Last night for instance, there I was, happily attempting to skip a rock, and down I went. Only just my leg went down. Aliced into a hole, but it was a hole that was made from where a dam used to be, so I landed between concrete and concrete. Flat on my ass, with my entire leg stuck down a hole with concrete on each side. Grace. That kind of grace and dexterity MUST take skill. And me being me, the immense hideous pain that followed caused me laugh hysterically.
I'm one of those. If it hurts really bad, I laugh. Especially if it's a fall, and it hurts like a mother. My sister is the same way, and she was standing right beside me, so she got to enjoy my fall at least, but was SO sad everyone else missed it! I feel bad for her. Everyone had just turned their backs looking for rocks or some such nonsense and down I go like a tonka truck over a rooftop, and everyone misses it but her! It was one of those moments you don't get to share with anyone.
Kinda like the time my poor Mom was having surgery, really scary surgery so we were at the hospital waiting, and decided to go wander into the gift shop and take a gander since they were finally open, and we'd been sitting there going crazy for hours. So, my Dad and I wander in, browsing along (I need to mention that my Daddy looks like someone from ZZ Top, usually people don't fool with him at all) and I happen to hear the little old gift shop lady ask my Dad "Wanna see my Beaver?" and I whip around and look at her and then at him, and she has this stuffed Beaver on the Counter.. and his face! ooooohh his face! Mortified! And I'm looking all around us, but there is no one, NO ONE to share this moment with! And gleefully she presses a button on the beavers paw, and it starts singing a Justin Bieber song. (it was a Justin Beaver..yeaaah) So, she says "Isn't that a clever Beaver?" I can't make this crap up people! She was 80 if she was a day! And still there is me, desperate for someone to share this with.. but no..
ok..That's how my sister felt I'm sure.
I've always been a little klutzy dork. I used to fall down the stairs so much that I still have nightmares about stairs. I fell down them so much my parents wouldn't even come check on my tangled heap at the bottom anymore. They'd just hear the telltale Ka-thump-a-whumping of my breakneck descent and say "Kelly fell down the stairs again" and continue on about their business. I'm still convinced that the ghost in the house was trying to kill me but that's another story and it makes me look crazier than I usually do!
http://iblog4.me
Aug 6, 2012
The Foxy Guide to Extermination
I used to be an exterminator. A very good exterminator. I could have been on Dirty jobs with Mike Rowe and KILLED IT! It is a very difficult, dirty, thankless, disgusting, dangerous job that I am very grateful I no longer have to get up every morning and do. But you don't want to hear that you want to hear the dirt, the gross, the real crap that goes into the story, that makes it rich and vibrant, and makes you gag a little....just remember I warned you before you read this. This is not for the faint of heart, stomach or mind.
First of all let me just state that being an exterminator is indeed a job, just because I'm a girl didn't mean that I was showing up to look cute with my tank of poison, ladders, and various other poisonous accouterments. I was there to work. And I did indeed. For some reason, though, men seemed to think I was there to lure them under their homes so that they could seduce me, or manhandle me or worse. A 6 cell maglight tended to stop those thoughts in their tracks. Creepers.
And, because I was also a certified inspector, when I went on those calls and had to suffer through countless homeowners acting as if I couldn't possibly know what I was doing because I was a woman, I felt I had something to prove. See, when you are a woman, people assume you can't do a 'man's' job, and when you are a small, relatively attractive woman, people deem it impossible. I even had one lady flat out refuse to believe that I had found termites at her home, and when I came back to her with a handful that I pulled out from beside her home, she told me I had pulled them from my pocket. Really? You got me! I keep 'em in there all the time, just to fool crazy *Bravos* like you!
I had to crawl around on dead mice and rats underneath peoples homes, took down hornets nests out of trees, battled black widows, brown recluses, and multitudinous other spiders, meanwhile maintaining a professional calm. Faked of course. I removed snakes, living and dead, because people are terrified of snakes, even if they are already trapped and dead, people won't go near them. Even the other exterminators wouldn't take the calls, I had to do them and make the guys look like the pansy ass little bitches that they were.
Raccoons in attics? Squirrels? No problem. I even treated a church out in the middle of nowhere that honestly had bats in the bellfry. No lie.... Bats. In. The. Bellfry. Bats are cool as hell! At night, when they swoop down, and you throw a piece of bread up for them, and they catch it! That's cool! During, the day, when they are sleeping, and you disturb them and hundreds of beady eyes swing around at you? Not so much.
The worst though.. The gross crap I warned you about in the beginning, that you have been cringing for... Roaches.. Roaches are the foulest, most disgusting creature on Earth. What's worse? The people whose homes we treated who had the worst roach problems. I'm not talking about a small roach problem. everyone may have had a little roach problem at one time or another. Maybe it came from a neighbor or the grocery store, maybe someone visited and left the little mothers behind as a parting gift.
No, I'm talking ROACHES.... Thousands of roaches, so many that it sounded like it was raining inside of the worst house that we were trying to treat. So many roaches that every surface of the home was covered in a thin greasy black film. Do you know what that film was? Roach feces, greasy food debris, smoke, and we never did figure out what else. There was rustling in the corners under piles of trash and clothes that we didn't have the guts to investigate. We assumed they were rats, and left lock traps heavily loaded with poison inside. We flushed behind every thing we could reach with air cans and watched as hundreds of more roaches came pouring out. And we sprayed more poison with our cans. Those giant metal pump cans.. We refilled twice. There were areas in the home, we didn't even dare to go in, or we were just too scared to disturb because we didn't know what would come out of there. Roaches were on the ceiling, hence the raining sound, they were falling off and hitting the ground to scurry back to their hidey holes. They were in the cabinets, the drawers.. the phone....In the phone....Just ewww.
Finally.. We bombed. We had to explain very carefully, and repeatedly to the homeowners that they had to evacuate the property so that we could bomb, then they all stood on the lawn with us and watched slackjawed as we threw the bombs in the front door and slammed it shut. Then.. we joined them in utter slackjawed amazement as we all watched thousands of cockroaches come out in waves from under the crack of the door and scurry up the front of it. I still maintain that they had bred for so long in there that they had advanced in their thinking and civilization.
My partner that day was a really nice guy, but one whom I had only known a total of three days. Usually you do all of your jobs alone, but our boss had been told in advance that this was a really nasty job, and so she sent both of us. We wasted no time getting the hell out of there once we saw the roaches escape. Then drove a few blocks up the street, parked in front of a closed store in a strip mall, jumped out of the truck, stripped in broad daylight and checked each other for bugs. Not caring at all that we were buck ass naked in front of each other, and the whole world. Then got dressed and drove back to our office and flat out refused to ever go back there again.
I've seen other nasty stuff, too. But NOTHING prepared me for that house! Roaches will eat anything. 50 can live off of one small smear of grease for a month. They will eat hair. They carry polio. Imagine thousands! That's some sick stuff. I know what you are thinking.. What the foxtrotting foxtrot Kelly?!! You're scared of them now, too, huh? Good. Welcome to my world. Pull up a comfy chair!
Wanna know how to get rid of them if you ever get them? Call a professional immediately when you see the first one. Not, a cheap fly by service to save a buck either. A Pro. One that will use a baiting gel system AND spray. Then don't let them say "OH! It's safe!" No. It's not. It's poison. Don't be stupid. Exterminators use poison that work as toxic nerve agents, dessicants, and various other ways to cause bugs to croak on contact. It's poison. Go away for the day, come home, and air your home out.
Ants though? Ants are easy, they hate cinnamon. Spray some cinnamon spray, and they'll leave. Easy, cheap, and no poison. Mice? Cotton balls or chocolate in the trap. Feel the trap isn't humane? Get a humane trap, and still put the cotton balls and chocolate in there. They can't resist it. They want to nest with the cotton, and LUURV the chocolate. Snakes hate moth balls, throw some around the house, or under the crawl space, etc. You can spray ammonia in the attic to keep small animals out of there.
Look how freaking helpful I am! I don't see Mike Rowe's butt tossing out helful hints!
First of all let me just state that being an exterminator is indeed a job, just because I'm a girl didn't mean that I was showing up to look cute with my tank of poison, ladders, and various other poisonous accouterments. I was there to work. And I did indeed. For some reason, though, men seemed to think I was there to lure them under their homes so that they could seduce me, or manhandle me or worse. A 6 cell maglight tended to stop those thoughts in their tracks. Creepers.
And, because I was also a certified inspector, when I went on those calls and had to suffer through countless homeowners acting as if I couldn't possibly know what I was doing because I was a woman, I felt I had something to prove. See, when you are a woman, people assume you can't do a 'man's' job, and when you are a small, relatively attractive woman, people deem it impossible. I even had one lady flat out refuse to believe that I had found termites at her home, and when I came back to her with a handful that I pulled out from beside her home, she told me I had pulled them from my pocket. Really? You got me! I keep 'em in there all the time, just to fool crazy *Bravos* like you!
I had to crawl around on dead mice and rats underneath peoples homes, took down hornets nests out of trees, battled black widows, brown recluses, and multitudinous other spiders, meanwhile maintaining a professional calm. Faked of course. I removed snakes, living and dead, because people are terrified of snakes, even if they are already trapped and dead, people won't go near them. Even the other exterminators wouldn't take the calls, I had to do them and make the guys look like the pansy ass little bitches that they were.
Raccoons in attics? Squirrels? No problem. I even treated a church out in the middle of nowhere that honestly had bats in the bellfry. No lie.... Bats. In. The. Bellfry. Bats are cool as hell! At night, when they swoop down, and you throw a piece of bread up for them, and they catch it! That's cool! During, the day, when they are sleeping, and you disturb them and hundreds of beady eyes swing around at you? Not so much.
The worst though.. The gross crap I warned you about in the beginning, that you have been cringing for... Roaches.. Roaches are the foulest, most disgusting creature on Earth. What's worse? The people whose homes we treated who had the worst roach problems. I'm not talking about a small roach problem. everyone may have had a little roach problem at one time or another. Maybe it came from a neighbor or the grocery store, maybe someone visited and left the little mothers behind as a parting gift.
No, I'm talking ROACHES.... Thousands of roaches, so many that it sounded like it was raining inside of the worst house that we were trying to treat. So many roaches that every surface of the home was covered in a thin greasy black film. Do you know what that film was? Roach feces, greasy food debris, smoke, and we never did figure out what else. There was rustling in the corners under piles of trash and clothes that we didn't have the guts to investigate. We assumed they were rats, and left lock traps heavily loaded with poison inside. We flushed behind every thing we could reach with air cans and watched as hundreds of more roaches came pouring out. And we sprayed more poison with our cans. Those giant metal pump cans.. We refilled twice. There were areas in the home, we didn't even dare to go in, or we were just too scared to disturb because we didn't know what would come out of there. Roaches were on the ceiling, hence the raining sound, they were falling off and hitting the ground to scurry back to their hidey holes. They were in the cabinets, the drawers.. the phone....In the phone....Just ewww.
Finally.. We bombed. We had to explain very carefully, and repeatedly to the homeowners that they had to evacuate the property so that we could bomb, then they all stood on the lawn with us and watched slackjawed as we threw the bombs in the front door and slammed it shut. Then.. we joined them in utter slackjawed amazement as we all watched thousands of cockroaches come out in waves from under the crack of the door and scurry up the front of it. I still maintain that they had bred for so long in there that they had advanced in their thinking and civilization.
My partner that day was a really nice guy, but one whom I had only known a total of three days. Usually you do all of your jobs alone, but our boss had been told in advance that this was a really nasty job, and so she sent both of us. We wasted no time getting the hell out of there once we saw the roaches escape. Then drove a few blocks up the street, parked in front of a closed store in a strip mall, jumped out of the truck, stripped in broad daylight and checked each other for bugs. Not caring at all that we were buck ass naked in front of each other, and the whole world. Then got dressed and drove back to our office and flat out refused to ever go back there again.
I've seen other nasty stuff, too. But NOTHING prepared me for that house! Roaches will eat anything. 50 can live off of one small smear of grease for a month. They will eat hair. They carry polio. Imagine thousands! That's some sick stuff. I know what you are thinking.. What the foxtrotting foxtrot Kelly?!! You're scared of them now, too, huh? Good. Welcome to my world. Pull up a comfy chair!
Wanna know how to get rid of them if you ever get them? Call a professional immediately when you see the first one. Not, a cheap fly by service to save a buck either. A Pro. One that will use a baiting gel system AND spray. Then don't let them say "OH! It's safe!" No. It's not. It's poison. Don't be stupid. Exterminators use poison that work as toxic nerve agents, dessicants, and various other ways to cause bugs to croak on contact. It's poison. Go away for the day, come home, and air your home out.
Ants though? Ants are easy, they hate cinnamon. Spray some cinnamon spray, and they'll leave. Easy, cheap, and no poison. Mice? Cotton balls or chocolate in the trap. Feel the trap isn't humane? Get a humane trap, and still put the cotton balls and chocolate in there. They can't resist it. They want to nest with the cotton, and LUURV the chocolate. Snakes hate moth balls, throw some around the house, or under the crawl space, etc. You can spray ammonia in the attic to keep small animals out of there.
Look how freaking helpful I am! I don't see Mike Rowe's butt tossing out helful hints!
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