* The following post contains a gross amount of exclamation points and not-at-all-creative profanity. If my dad were to read this, I'm certain he would look at me over his glasses and say, "C.M."—he always calls me by my first and middle names when he says this line—"C.M., that isn't very ladylike, is it?" No, Dad, indeed it is not.

Please bear with me. I need to do this.


Fuck you, you fucking motherfucker! You have been sucking my blood and irritating my skin for fucking months now! I fucking hate you! You crawl into my bed, into my shirt, up my pants, and fucking bite me! Fuck you! I've been sleeping dressed head to toe in this fucking humidity, with the A/C cranked, just so I can wake up without being entirely covered in itchy welts! And you still fucking bite my hands and feet! Now I'm taking a sleep aid so I can get more than three hours of shut-eye a night! You've made me so fucking paranoid! I look like a fucking disgusting freak, with red blotches all over my body, and scabs from where I scratched those fucking bites! Yeah, I'm real cute! No wonder I can't get a fucking date! Who'd want to date a chick whose fucking apartment is infested with your nastiness?! I've spent so much money on Raid and hydrocortizone! My doctor even put me on steroids to try to make my skin better! What the fuck! That shit is expensive, and I don't have money falling out of my wallet, you jerk!

And now it's going to cost me even more! I have to bag up all my shit and boil it all to get you fucking jackasses out of there! I have to take down the curtains and send out all my clothes out to be cleaned! I have to move all my furniture and flip up the bed! I have to remove all the electrical plates and caulk every fucking crack in this fucking apartment! What the fuck! May some fucking miracle help you if I have to throw away my mattress and get a new one, because I can't fucking afford it! And don't even start with me if I have to wrestle my feral cat into a fucking box just to get him out of your way!

Prepare to meet your maker, motherfucker! The Exterminator is finally coming, oh yes, he is coming! I'm doing all of this for him. And if he isn't the Messiah I am hoping for, you all better pray. This shit has gone on for far too fucking long for me to take it anymore! I have lost so many nights of sleep, paranoid about you disgusting fucks! You are all going to hell if I go to bed this weekend and get a fucking nibble anywhere on my white white ass!

Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!

...

Hmm. I thought writing all that out would make me feel better. It didn't. I'm still pissed and I'm still stressed and I still want to cry.

*Psssst!* goes the near-empty can of Raid.

Just killed another one. Motherfucker!

*Psssst!*

Another! Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!

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