Game of Exterminators: A Song of Puns and Ants

Last week I discovered that a colony of ants had decided to squat in my bedroom window. These ants are not the cute l’il teeny ones that are guilty of not much more than ruining your picnic either; these are giant motherfucking evil looking creatures that freak me the fuck out. Seriously. I am not a squeamish person but there is just something about these ants that send me into berzerker frenzy.

rage i hate ants

The last time that these fuckers had ventured into my room was in May and I thought that I had killed the colony since I had sprayed so much ant spray into the woodwork around the window that I nearly killed myself but then as I was working in my room last week I started to hear some sort of odd crackling near my window.

(Actually I think one of the things that sets me stupid about these ants is that I can hear them under the wood.)

I looked over in dread and sure enough there was an ant shaking his ass at me–who was soon joined by more ants who grabbed their crotches and flipped me the bird. I freaked out again and went on a spray frenzy but I had unfortunately used the majority of the spray in my last rage, and while I killed the ants that were doing the Harlem Shake on my sill, I didn’t feel safe from seeing an encore performance later.

I originally wanted to burn the house down but my mother convinced that an exterminator would work just as well. Since I have deadlines and am still covering at my “part time” job she took over finding an exterminator and setting up an appointment.

I came home on Saturday and was told that the exterminator had come and sprayed while I was at my other job.

“They’re Carpenter Ants,” my mother told me.

I nodded. “I could tell by the way they were singing Superstar at all hours.”**

“And it was a pain in the ass to find an exterminator. You would think that they would be under ‘E’ for ‘exterminator’ but they’re not.” (My mother still uses a phone book.)
“They’re under ‘P’ for ‘pest control’,” she clarified.

“I see. And what was the name of the company?”

“Able Pest Control.”

“Oh. I was hoping that they were named Lannister,” I replied.

“What? Why?” my mother asked.

“Because a Lannister always sprays for pests!” I howled with laughter at my own wittiness.

My brother happened to overhear this conversation and told me that I should beat myself for such a terrible pun.
a lannister always, game of thrones, tyrion

And that was the highlight of my weekend.
(I’m not even being facetious, that amused me for several hours.)

The Sky Was Storming But the Watermelon was Everclear

Number 24 on The List of Shameless Shit is “Share a struggle you have yet to “just get over.””  This could be a real downer of a prompt, but homegirl don’t play that.  Instead I’m going to tell you about the beach adventure that I had with my brother this past weekend.

I’m guessing that it’s because I now do so much work from home that I want to be completely out of the house and away from my computer when I don’t have to be around to go in to my pay-the-bills job.  Oddly enough the place that I keep wanting to visit is the beach.  While many of my favourite childhood memories involve staying at my grandmother’s shore house and going on the beach with my cousins, I haven’t been a beach fan in over a decade.  I’ve long ago given up on self-analysis though, so even if this change seemed weird, I just rolled with it.

The forecast for this past weekend had been threatening massive storms, but the worst rain that we seen so far was on Saturday when a little shower had blown through early and left the rest of the day sunny.  Sunday started out the same way–with a shower in the morning–but by 11am it was sunny again.  The beach was calling to me, and after a round of pleas and threats, I was finally able to convince my brother to take a shore trip with me.

We didn’t get on the beach until about 2:30, but the late arrival and semi-cloudy sky worked to our benefit because there were hardly any people to step over as we picked a spot to camp out.  The only issue with the late arrive though was that the tide was coming in and this would possibly mess with my beach plans: to make The Red Keep, one of the castles from A Game of Thrones.

Geeks take their geekiness even to the beach, you see.

My brother, however, had an equally geeky idea about how to give me more time to build my castle, namely by building another GoT landmark: The Wall.

the wall, sand castle, game of thrones

I like how he even labeled it “Wall”.

Much like it’s namesake, The Wall did protect the realm of my castle as the tide started to come in.  And if you are reeling from nerd-overload already, this will send you right over the edge because every time a large wave barreled toward the shore we would scream, “WINTER IS COMING!”  Or if it was a particularly foamy wave we would howl about The Wall protecting us from the White Walkers.

(Shut up.)

Unfortunately the tide didn’t play fair and there was a cross-current that came from the side of The Wall and began to erode The Red Keep before I was even a third of the way finished.

sand castle

“The White Walkers” have surrounded The Red Keep and have begun to destroy it.

After the second wave of “White Walkers” the walls were crumbling and the largest towers had fallen.  I was undeterred though.  I knocked down a few towers myself and declared that the castle was now Harrenhall.

(Pound for pound this is pretty much the geekiest I’ve been in some time.)

sand castle

The ruined castle of Harrenhall.

My brother and I had done all that we could do to save the castle, so we moved on to playing Washers.  We had no sooner set up the washer boxes when the sky opened up with a downpour that would have sent Noah to building another Ark.  I wasn’t wearing a bathing suit so I wrapped myself in a towel while my brother held a sheet over his head until he gave it up for a bad job and let himself get soaked.  For a good twenty minutes we were pummeled with rain, and when it finished everything was saturated–except me (haha-thank you towel).  The funniest part though was that The Wall and Harrenhall made it (kinda) through the storm.

beach after rain

My brother inspecting the remains.

We resumed our game of Washers and then looked over to see that a rainbow had appeared over the ocean.  I have better pics on my camera, but here’s what my brother managed to capture with his phone.

rainbow at the beach

There must be GOLD in the Music Pier!

And then a leprechaun appeared and while he didn’t give us gold, he gave us the next best thing: grain alcohol.

Seriously.

Okay, it wasn’t really a leprechaun, it was one of the guys from the group who had been beaching next to us, but he was rather round and jolly and he really did give us a watermelon filled with Everclear.  My brother and I didn’t have knives, but did that stop us from eating the watermelon?  Nope.  We tore the watermelon apart with our fucking bare hands and ate it.  By the time we were finished, the already drenched beach blanket was further soaked in Watermelon-Everclear juice.  It was a lot of fun to haul the sticky, soaking lot of blankets, towels and bag back to the car, but all in all it was a pretty kickass day.

So what does this all have to do with No. 24 my List of Shameless Shit?  Well, that sea water surrounding my sand castle?  That was the first bit of the Atlantic Ocean that I’ve let touch my skin since I was eighteen.  Without wasting too much space with details, next week will be the anniversary of the day that I was at the shore and came down with a fever that would eventually burn so hot that it would cause brain damage and destroy my memory.  The doctors had told my mother that I must have caught something from the ocean and as a result I’ve had a panic attack whenever I’ve been on the beach and the water came near me.  This my No. 24 because I’m not over my fear of catching a fever from the ocean.

But I’m getting there.

(And because I’m emo, I took the rainbow as present from God for a job well started.)