Friday, September 21, 2007
Insect Preferences
(4)
We have a cricket. Noisy sucker. I presume that it entered the apartment at about the same time the bee entered. The bee apparently explored the place for several hours then decided that this was no place for him (or her). I found it this afternoon attempting to break through solid glass. Typical. Bees are so dumb. So I got a glass and trapped the bee between the glass of the patio door and the glass container. Kootch then gave me a sheet of paper. I slipped the paper between the glass and the glass of the patio door. The bee, apparently seeing her world disappearing behind the paper, panicked and became hyperactive. I trapped the bee in the glass. I then opened the patio door, walked outside, and removed the paper. The bee flew away.
I love bees. I will never forget the time that I 'petted' a bee: I was wasted on Acid (tap) sometime around 1979. It was late afternoon. I was sitting on the cement front patio of 7152 S Franklin Street, alone. The flowers were in full bloom. Beautiful! I saw a bee, busy collecting pollen. Overcome with love, I reached out my right index finger and petted her gently on her back. She ignored me. My fear of bees ended there forever. (You can still see the flowers at that address.)
Which brings us to the cricket. This is one noisy cricket! It shuts up when I get too close. It also shuts up when I turn off the tv sets. Smart cricket! I am minded to hunt the critter down and evict the sucker. That would be my duty, and I have made several superficial attempts to do so. My reasoning is that that cricket cricks in vain: there is no cricket pussy in this apartment. But at the same time I love that loud little cricket for its company: Kootch sleeps, and my only other companion is a Jewish faggot lurking upstairs who taps the floor from time to time.
I prefer the cricket.
Guess I'll keep it around for now.
We have a cricket. Noisy sucker. I presume that it entered the apartment at about the same time the bee entered. The bee apparently explored the place for several hours then decided that this was no place for him (or her). I found it this afternoon attempting to break through solid glass. Typical. Bees are so dumb. So I got a glass and trapped the bee between the glass of the patio door and the glass container. Kootch then gave me a sheet of paper. I slipped the paper between the glass and the glass of the patio door. The bee, apparently seeing her world disappearing behind the paper, panicked and became hyperactive. I trapped the bee in the glass. I then opened the patio door, walked outside, and removed the paper. The bee flew away.
I love bees. I will never forget the time that I 'petted' a bee: I was wasted on Acid (tap) sometime around 1979. It was late afternoon. I was sitting on the cement front patio of 7152 S Franklin Street, alone. The flowers were in full bloom. Beautiful! I saw a bee, busy collecting pollen. Overcome with love, I reached out my right index finger and petted her gently on her back. She ignored me. My fear of bees ended there forever. (You can still see the flowers at that address.)
Which brings us to the cricket. This is one noisy cricket! It shuts up when I get too close. It also shuts up when I turn off the tv sets. Smart cricket! I am minded to hunt the critter down and evict the sucker. That would be my duty, and I have made several superficial attempts to do so. My reasoning is that that cricket cricks in vain: there is no cricket pussy in this apartment. But at the same time I love that loud little cricket for its company: Kootch sleeps, and my only other companion is a Jewish faggot lurking upstairs who taps the floor from time to time.
I prefer the cricket.
Guess I'll keep it around for now.
