… So go to sleep bitch, die motherf*cker, die. Time’s up, bitch, close your eyes. – Eminem
An old X-Files episode, “War of the Coprophages,” centers on a town brought down to its collective knees by an infestation of cockroaches.
I am somewhat depressed to find my present living quarters to be a version of said town. The bathroom especially is a Body Shop-scented horror-fest. Even with shampoo running down my face, I try keep a vigilant eye on all surroundings, ready to jump out at the merest hint of something brown and quick, moving on long, bent, monstrous legs of doom in the corner of my vision. Not only did Mother Nature beat these things with the ugly stick, she also made them into unrepentant perverts.
Scavenging in the dark is somewhat forgivable, but attacking a naked girl in her shower is crossing over into “Psycho” territory. They say that Oriental cockroaches are attracted to light; what they fail to mention is that they are also attracted to the ladiez in a sick, degenerate way that, in a just world, would see them locked up forever in a maze full of hungry geckos and steroid-addled centipedes.
One hideous, malformed Child of Hades scuttled into the bedroom and tried to graze my foot lovingly while I was on a business call. It was a scene straight out of Kafka, and my partner’s eardrums may never be the same. I killed him (the cockroach, not the partner) with spray, and today I killed what I only hope is his dear, dear auntie – also with spray, since the fungal roach bait is becoming less attractive to these living abominations.
I’ve spent way too much time worrying about zombies and colossal squid, while the real threat grew unseen in old and rusted water pipes. What does a warrior do in such a situation? (Besides uttering a piercing scre… er, war-shriek, and bravely buggering off) The hunted must become the hunter. One’s inner Jim from “28 Days Later” (not whiny, unshaven Jim, but killing machine/smooth operator Jim) has to be unleashed.
At the gym, I improve my endurance, patiently shaving milliseconds off the time it takes me to react to the atrocity emerging from between my shampoo bottles and bolt for the death-spray. I also work on my arms, making sure I’m strong enough to deliver the perfect blow with my Nine West pump. I’m not a sadistic person, but the glee I experience at seeing one of these servants of Satan twitch its evil appendages as it expires makes me wonder if I should start moonlighting as an exterminator of sorts:
Except, in my case, I’d wear combat boots and a stars n’ stripes bikini, blast Iron Maiden in the background, pour kerosene down the pipes, and greet the exodus with a vengeful rain of armour-piercing bullets laced with boric acid, cyanide, and the ground-up teeth of evil clowns. If the house blows up, I’ll take them with me, and they, in the immortal words of Renegade Evolution, can suck my strap-on in hell ’till doomsday.
And you shall know me by the trail of dead, etcetera, etcetera.
11 thoughts on “Blatta orientalis: There will be blood”
Geez… I think you have captured my last month in Amman in one! Once I spied a critter I could not relax anywhere in the flat.
I swear they had a strategy to torment me during the evening with their scratchings, and it worked: by week two I was circling the bed like a zealous medieval ritualist with anti-critter spray in lieu of salt to keep the witches away.
Although there are a million things I loved about my stay in Jordan, cockroaches remain the least missed aspect, by far!
Napalm is the way. Hardy har har.
I never thought an account of cockroach killing could be this amusing and well-written 🙂
The most disturbing thing is when deal one a satisfying death blow only to find it’s resurrected itself a moment later, like the horror movie villain coming back for one final scare.
Resurrection is clearly wired into their evil genetic code.
oh damn, I want to be your trusty sidekick when “Natalia: The Exterminator” comes out as a big summer blockbuster movie. I have a deathly fear of spiders and glory in the delight of killing them, which could provide much needed, ehm, arachnophobic backup to the main plot involving evil cthulhu worshiping cockroach lords.
I will wear a black leather metal studded goth-dress and a belt filled with various sprayable poisons and blunt objects. What say you?
My roommate used to smash them against the wall and leave the carcass there “as warnings to the other ones.”
I had to move from that apartment after my girlfriend woke up screaming with a few of them in her hair.
I’d go with AC/DC if I were you…
Okay, I know this won’t win me any friends… but facts are facts.
Why do you think hippies use it?
Yes, yes, I know… it disguises the smell of dope (true) and blends well with body odor (true) but they forgot the third benefit–INSECT REPELLENT!!!! As you know, hippies often found themselves in similar quarters.
Buy some patchouli oil and unscented lotion… add about 2 long drops (or twenty tiny ones) per 2 oz of lotion, then apply lotion to legs and footsies. Also works for fleas, and believe me, I know from fleas!
If the Patchouli oil overpowers your chosen scent, keep in mind the scent blends well with Cypress, Frankincense and Sandalwood. (Don’t add to lotion, just choose one as an additional scent–these can take the edge off the musky Patchouli odor.)
Another thing that works is NEEM oil, follow same instructions. The problems is that Neem smells like Citronella. But add some to a water/alcohol spray mix and spray around your bed, right on sheets will not harm you. (The nasty carcinogenic bug sprays WILL harm you.) This is what they use in India, where they’ve been known to have a few cockroaches.
Good luck! 🙂 I feel your pain!
Sarah, I’m going to e-mail you. Let’s turn it into a script. I’ve got a lot of things on my plate right now, but, at the very least, it would be fun to collaborate on.
Daisy, thanks. I think these cockroaches are super-evolved mutants, because none of my natural remedies have worked so far. If I find patchouli on sale in Amman, I’ll let you know if it works. Otherwise, there is always heavy weaponry to consider.
Gabriel, see this is why I hate these creatures the most. They love to harass women.