Inglorious Bastards

I finally called a pest control guy to deal with our ant invasion and I think I enunciated very clearly, as one is apt to do when dealing with service people, babysitters, phone companies etc. Yet he was unable to understand me. Him: Huh, tent problem? Me: No, ant problem! Safe for what? Safe what? Me: Safe for children? Him: (and I could hear the irritation in his voice) JESUS! Then he hung up on me. Hung up on me!!!! I called him back and said: First of all, take the potatoes out of your ears. And secondly: It was extremely rude of you to hang up on a customer. And thirdly: FUCK YOU!

Do I have an anger problem?

Hills of Africa

I must have killed a million ants today. Once, I saw a documentary where African ants attacked a huge lizard and carried him (yes, carried him) off to their hill in order to feast. Ever since I don't trust the fuckers.

PS: Guy above. If you see this pic of yourself, I'm sorry. I just found it on Google Images. I assume you live in Portland. I assume a lot more, but I won't say.

Grandma

I talked to my grandma today and she was coherent. Told me to kill the ants with olive oil. And asked how my moths were doing. See, she remembers. I told her I miss picking flowers with her in the spring.