bury the cockaroaches

I had the oddest dream last night that cockroaches were out to get me. It was like that Power Puffs Girl cartoon where they were battling the cockroach king and cockroaches were coming from everywhere and bitch slappin Buttercup and the other two. They were coming out of the sink, the power outlets, they were spilling out of the TV, they were everywhere. They were so thick on the walls it looked like the walls were breathing. I so fuckin hate cockroaches, when I owned the big ass house on the traffic way I never saw a cockroach during the years I lived there. I attribute that to the giant spiders that lived in the basement. It’s very sobering when you see a spider so big you can see the muthafucker blink.

They were so big (how big were they?) I once tossed a tennis ball at one of their webs and the fuckin ball just hung there. (Ka-ching!)

Walkin into my basement back then was like stepping back in time to one of those old black and white science fiction movies where the giant insects terrorized the fuckin countryside. I was tempted one time to put some toy tanks and shit down there and take pictures but if one of those big muthafucker’s had landed on me I’d still be crapping myself. Now when I was younger I stayed just off the Plaza, and the place I lived in had a huge cockroach problem. We were told back then that it was because when one restaurant fumigated they’d up and move to the next place down the street. And so on and so an, until they hit the apartment buildings we lived in. I didn’t own a TV back then and all I did was listen to music and read. I had this huge bookcase next to my bed and one night I decided to rearrange all my books. As soon as I pulled my books out all these fuckin cockroaches started spilling out. I freaked so bad that I grabbed a can of lighter fluid and dowsed the whole fuckin bookcase and set the muthafucker on fire. I damned near burned the whole stinking place down. Plus that was in my young and horny days, as compared to my current old and horny days. I had covered all the walls and ceiling of the bedroom with printed burlap that I’d gotten from this import rug company, which I thought would look so smooth to the ladies. Well, that shit started going up in flames like a bitch. I actually got the shit put out without callin the fire department, which was great cause I probably couldn’t remember the number anyway, and this was all before the 911 emergency systems was in general usage. Well at least the dream wasn’t as bad as getting fucked up on acid and talking to a giant cockroach in a pimp suit. Which is another story altogether.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"