The clown post got me thinking about my long tortured history with moths. I'm generally good with all insects, worms, even the feared spider. But for some reason, moths freak me out. It's like they're always in attack mode, you can't handle them or they fall apart, they're dusty, just ewwww. I'd be held prisoner in my house during the summer when the porch light was on and they just swarmed the porch. I once almost wrecked the Mustang when I was caught with two of them driving home from Amarillo. I'm not proud of this, and I've actually come a long way. No longer do I run screaming, flailing my arms and legs like an epileptic Ninja; but I will still give them a very, very wide berth.
If there had been such a thing as cell phones when I was growing up (I'm actually old enough to remember having ONE rotary phone in the house and calling an operator to make the connection), and IF Poppy would ever have texted, this is what it would have looked like:
12 comments:
I didn't know crankyjohn was your father.
;-)
I LOL'ed
Terry
Fla.
Terry, I think cranky's just a couple of years older than me. But yeah, the same principle level of meanness.
I feel so much better knowing I'm not alone. I've killed snakes in the yard, bats in the garage, and every manner of vermin and insect in the house, but if there's moth I scream like a little girl and my wife has to smack it.
Welcome Fred. You will find nothing but comfort and acceptance here. DEATH TO MOTHS!
Wiser send me your address so I can mail you a box of moths.
cranky, you can pucker up and kiss my lily white, glow-in-the-dark ass. :-D
Move your nose.
What?! You're feeling awfully feisty tonight, Mr. Cranky.
It must be the beer and metamucil.
Aw cranky, you always know how to put a smile on my face.
But be careful. If you dont mix enough beer it sets like cement.
crankyjohn's beer butt bomb.
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