Okay, well, maybe a nibble - but I digress already.
I've been waging a war in my own backyard. The other morning, my furlicious love muffin, Marcel Verdel Purcell, came in from the yard in some kind of terrible distress. So, I scooped his shaking little body up into my arms - and hello - some ants crawled from his beard onto my hand. FIRE ANTS. Otherwise known as little fuckers. I'm sorry for the language, but please, in this case - it applies in no uncertain terms. A small army of these militants invaded my Marcel and were biting him! He is okay - the ants were removed, liquid benadryl given, and many kisses were doled out to his deliciousness. But let me tell you - the reason they're called fire ants? Yeah, because the bite feels like FIRE. Probably didn't need to point that out, but I'm driving it home.
But Mama Bear? OH. Mama Bear is PISSED. Normally, I don't kill insects - the creaturist in me just feels bad about it - so I bring them outside and tell them to please stay there next time, go find your own mortgage. But the fire ants? They are GOIN' DOWN, people. It'd be one thing if they had bitten me - because I'm sure I have some karma to pay. I'm sure I even have some insect-specific karma to pay - there are probably plenty of insects who want to stick it to me, and that's fine. Take the karma, just take it already.
But Marcel? This little 3.4-pound creature who spends his days spreading joy, blasting out love, and licking nostrils? I am quite sure he has no real karma to pay - at least not in the form of these bastard fire ants. These war mongers. And nobody, and I mean nobody, messes with my dogs. Mama.Bear.Grows.Fangs.
So, I don't care what it takes - but if I have to wear a Hazmat Suit and some night vision goggles - and crawl amidst the cacti and the geckos and the spiders in my backyard: I WILL end the colonization that has taken over my backyard. And the Queen Ant of all these little bastards? I don't know where that bitch is, but I'll find her. I'm sure she's sitting on some little poof of special queen sand while her male underlings bring her food and MORE FOOD and she orders them to bite bite MORE BITE. Well I just cannot get on board with that level of gluttony and servitude - and I AM COMIN' for you, princess.
That is all.
[Update 4 hrs. later: Phew! That felt good. Now that it's off my chest: isn't he just the cutest widdle nookie wookie wub dub? Don't you just wanna get up in there and smushie wooshie cushie fooshie? Oh shut up, self.]
