Not too long ago, I had a dog named Daisy. Or Dixie. Something like that. You see, I’ve never really connected with her. Because see, she’s never allowed me to. She’s so scared of men that she wouldn’t come to me. Every time I would approach her, she would make a rather large puddle of this dark yellow liquid. I’m not sure what all that is about. But I couldn’t have a relationship with this dog like most people have with their dogs. You know, like petting it and saying, “Come here, Butch!” and have him actually come see you. So I’ve never connected with her, and thus – I don’t really remember her name.
Regardlessly, she brought some of her friends in a few weeks ago. And now they’ve taken over. Fleas. I hate them. I hate them worse than I hate golf. Thousands of them. You couldn’t walk through the grass to the back door without having them hop onto your legs and start biting. The little cocksuckers.
So let me tell you how bad this thing has gotten. While we were in the hospital having Laynie, Step’s parents bombed our house. My buddy Stout brought some commercial-grade chemical and we powdered the entire lawn. Like a quadruple dose. I bought some shit that you can spray on the carpet and it kills them. It kills the baby ones, the larvae, the eggs, the adults, and the elderly ones whose teeth are falling out.
Well they’re still hopping on our legs. So check this out. They started coming out of the carpeted rooms two nights ago, hanging out on the tile in the hallway. So we walk down the hallway and they hop on our legs. Bastards. No big deal, right? Except that now they lay their eggs on the tile beneath the baseboards. Our return air vent is there in the hallway. So the eggs, when the air conditioner kicks on, get sucked up into the return air vent and blown out our vents all over the house. So now the eggs are back in our carpets in every room.
The eggs hatch and we’re back at square one. The entire house is crawling with fleas. And they bite. And spawn and have baby fleas. We spray again. Stout came over and sprayed more shit yesterday. Some more powerful chemical. And we bombed. Again. Three bombs. And I sprayed. Then we came home last night (four hours after bombing), and they’re still hopping up on my legs. And biting. And this morning they were worse. It’s getting so bad I can hardly believe it. I’ve never seen such a horrible infestation. Well, at least not since the Nazis took over Poland. I’m losing hope, and I’m getting worried now that I may lose this battle. So I’m about to take a more serious action.
I’m going to bomb my house. I’ve got a buddy who may or may not have some terrorist ties. I’m going to get him to send someone to my house with a small nuke suitcase bomb. Once we’ve refilled the crater, we can rebuild from scratch and have a happy, pleasant home free of fleas. Sigh. Any suggestions?