Remember last summer when I'd wake you up every morning at 2AM? I'd make all that racket then go silent as soon as you came out of your bedroom? You'd look all over the place for me and I'd be there under one of your stupid philodendrons just cracking up. You should see yourself at that hour shuffling around in your jammies with a flashlight in one hand and a spatula in the other. You're a riot Al.
 |
| I took this shot of you last summer |
Anyway, just thought I'd let you know that I haven't left. It's December and I'm still in your living room sucking up some of this good ol' heat. Thanks pal.
To be honest I'm just biding my time until the girls show up next spring. Can't wait to see your face when I start rubbing these ol' gams together once more.
Get some sleep while you can.
Sucker!
Sam
-The cricket hiding who knows where in your house
 |
Sometimes I also like to read your books |
Dear Sam:
You probably know this by now but I hate your little exoskeletal encased cricket guts. And speaking of guts, I'm going to make it my mission in life to hunt you down and smoosh them all over my beautiful wood floors.
But I won't stop there.
Since you wanna play hardball and since you refuse to chip in for the heat, next spring I'm coming after the entire lot of you.
There's this one poison that's supposedly irresistible to you little buggers.
You might enjoy a few nibbles at first, but after about a minute or so you'll slowly start to fry on the inside, while your final meal begins roasting your organs (or whatever it is you have in that heartless thing you call a body) to a complete cinder. Eventually you'll wind up nothing more than a hollow cricket carcass decomposing in my shrubbery.
Or better yet, maybe I'll just go after your women.
You see there's this other stuff that first renders them sterile, making them incapable of bearing any more of your miserable little cricket spawn. But it won't matter because after they turn into depleted barren wastelands, their pheromones become completely neutralized.
I'm sure you'll have loads of fun trying to breed while humping some guy named Jeff.
Enjoy your winter.I'm coming for you.
Al Picking Up The Propane Tab For The Last Time Dente
 |
| You this time next summer |
1 comments :
Complete annihilation with evil intent is certainly one avenue to pursue. Though I am surprised, Al, as you happen to be a fabulous musician, and the cricket, in its own right, is also a musical wonder in the insect world; Albeit a one-note wonder, but a wonder nonetheless. Perhaps you might consider a different option with dear Sam, (which happens to be the name of my kitten, who could also take care of your pesky problem in short order).
Post a Comment