I've Got Bugs...and Other Confessions

I've got bugs. Not just any bugs, but horny bugs doing what is depicted in the picture. I've got Japanese beetles mating in my Chinese Elm hedges. At least it sounds like I've got some culture going on in my life. First Pearl Harbor, and now this.

This pisses me off. I discovered them last night when I was trimming the hedges. Because of course, if my hedges barely creep out towards the sidewalk, someone in this town will get bent out of shape because it somehow inhibits their ability to walk down the sidewalk. I'd just as soon prefer that no one walks down the sidewalk. Also, a little branch hanging out here and there slows down the retarded neighbor kids who must be on a mission to scratch the holy hell out of my car with their bicycles.

Hostile much? Why yes, I am today. Thanks for noticing.

I used no less than a half a can of flying insect killer last night on the little bastards. I went in search of some beetle bag to catch them, but wasn't about to drive to Lowe's from the south end of town when I couldn't find them anywhere. So I bought some more killer-in-a-can and saturated about a gazillion of the little suckers this afternoon.

Besides the fact that they are eating the leaves on the hedges down to nothing but a skeletal remain of a leaf, these things freak me the hell out. That green color. It's like something out of a bad B movie about alien invasion or nuclear warfare. Should one bite me, I imagine I'd transform into Beetle Woman, doing whatever it is that beetles do when they fight crime.

Speaking of being pissed, pissy seems to be the tone of the day.

When I went to the grocery in search of a beetle bag, and came out $65 poorer and beetle bagless, the young gay boy who was at the register did this nasally whine. "I've got alcohoool. Could you come over here and ring this up, pleaassse?"

You might have thought I'd asked him for a pint of blood rather than purchasing a twelve-pack of Bud Light with Lime. (Obviously, he wasn't old enough to sell me the booze, so he had to request help from someone over 18.) Well, freakin' excuse me.

And then, yes, then...he finishes bagging up my groceries, and leaves four bags setting there and starts ringing up the next customer. What the hell?

"Oh, don't worry about it," I said very sarcastically. "I'll get those and put them in my cart. Thank you!"

"No proooblem," he said, stereotyping himself without any help from me.

It's hot as a bitch today, and while it beats winter and being 30 below, I don't like sweating when I'm sitting still. I don't mind a little sweat from physical activity, but if only breathing is causing me to glisten, it puts me in a foul mood.

Think I'll go have a cold beer and kill some more beetle bastards.