Friday, April 24, 2009

It's official, I've killed something with my big fat ass

My office is somehow swarming with ants. It’s gross. Plus now I look completely crazy. It’s like when someone tells you that their sister’s brother-in-law’s ex-finance’s daughter’s friend got lice and suddenly you’re itching your scalp for the next week? Yeah – that’s how it is with the ants. I’m itchy because I know that they are there. I spend much of my time on a crusade to squish ants and/or swat them off myself or various areas on or around my desk. Basically, I look like I’ve turned into a meth addict since I sit in my office itching and swatting at things nobody else can see except me or unless you’re reeeaaaally close to my desk. I’ve pretty much turned into the hottest banker EVAR. Obviously.

Apparently now, in my battle to be victorious over these amazingly resistant insects, they have decided to go all kamikaze and upped the game to include suicide missions. Essentially this involves sitting on my chair and waiting to see the shadow of my ass, at which time they know that the end is near. While it sounds like this is more a win for me and less so for the ants, you would be wrong. In fact I wouldn’t have ever caught on to their little strategy except that recently I’ve started changing into my gym clothes in the bathroom at work.

This really means nothing except as I was folding up my pants to put them in my bag, I noticed something on the back pocket. Upon closer inspection it appeared to be a dead ant. A dead ant….ON MY PANTS! Oooo, yes how very clever. So not only do I sit in my office all day looking monkey-shit insane while swatting at “nothing”, randomly stabbing at “nothing” on my desk and itching the entire time, but now I get to walk around all day at work with a dead ant on my pants! It’s pretty much only a matter of time before they realize the true beauty of this scenario and lay in wait in droves on my chair. Because obviously a horde of dead ants stuck to my pants would be even better…for them anyway.

On the plus side, I can now actually say I’ve killed something with my ass, which, really, I never would have thought was possible. Not that my ass isn’t capable of killing…clearly…but because I never imagined a situation where I would get the chance. Still…ants: 1; Me: 0.

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