I went on a killing spree yesterday. I felt just like Arnold Schwarzenegger. There was death and much bloodshed.
I started my murderous rampage when I discovered an ants nest in the porch of our house. Ants living inside our house! This was totally unacceptable. I can tolerate ants in the garden, but when they cross the boundary into my house, action had to be taken.
We have a can of Raid insect killer in our front room. This is kept in case a spider ever runs across our carpet. I am too scared to try to catch the things and release outside, so just spray them to death with poison. Luckily for me, the spider spray is also very good at eradicating ants. I emptied most of what remained in the can onto the ants nest. Hopefully that’s them dead and never to be seen again. I know karma will catch up with me soon, and a tarantula will come striding across the carpet – I’ll have no Raid spray left to protect me and will end up cowering in the corner in fear.
With the smell of ants blood still in my nostrils, I stormed into the garden, armed with another piece of artillery… weed killer. Our back garden has been taken over by weeds. We have this problem every spring. As soon as winter has passed and the sun comes out, the weeds decide to come to life come out in their droves. Our patio was like a big weed rock festival. They have all been sprayed and will hopefully be like the ants… DEAD.
Spiders. I know I shouldn’t be bothered by them, I really do. To be fair, it’s only those huge house spiders which trouble me. The ones which are as fat as a pig, with legs like tree trunks. Despite their hideous appearance, I know all too well that they are harmless.
One creepy crawley which is not harmless the wasp. This morning, there was a huge wasp on the curtain in our house. This was was big too – almost as large as that dead one which I featured in ‘Bug Top Trumps‘ a while ago.
I was brave. I caught the insect, using a pint glass and an envelope. It was then released into the community. There were no tears, no shitting in terror or tantrums. In fact, I showed no fear at all. This is because I am not scared of wasps.
I really need to start getting things into perspective. Wasps can hurt you. Big spiders cannot (at least not in this country). Therefore, I should stop being a scardy cat when it comes to arachnids and develop a new phobia of bees and wasps.
A huge moth flew into the office today. It came out of Pav’s bag, which begs the question how often he opens it and worse still, what else is inside, if moths are taking up residence within it. The moth was huge and bared more similarities to a bat. I don’t have a phobia of moths, although this one scared me, due to its size. Nothing that large can be safe – it must surely feed on blood. Luckily, it hid away in the corner of the window frame. I bravely took a photo.
Thinking the moth would stay hidden and not cause any disruption or harm, I got on with my work and thought no more of it. A short while later, while explaining to how to use a memory stick to a visiting customer, I noticed the moth flying and crawling around behind my computer monitor and on the wall. I don’t think the customer saw the creature. If he did, he certainly didn’t comment on it. He must have, however, noticed me looking rather perturbed. I hope he did not think that I was scared of him or his flash drive.
I don’t know where the moth went, and quite frankly, I don’t want to know. I hope I never see it again. However, if I come in tomorrow, open my desk drawer and get attacked by the winged monster, I’ll be sure to blog about it. If it doesn’t kill me, that is.
It is true to say that the majority of Bath residents live in a bubble, separated from the rest of the world and society. With the exception of housing and unemployment, which affects the entire country, us Bathonians have it easy. We live in a safe and clean city. Just look at the national news to see some of the horrible things taking place in other towns within the UK.
Still, moaning is in our nature. We wouldn’t be human if we didn’t complain and Bath residents are no different. Except, as we have no real issues to concern us, we find other things to whinge about. Twitter is a great place to see such complaints.
Below are just some of the top perils to affect the residents of the Georgian city of Bath…
I mentioned these myself the other day (you can tell I live in Bath!). Tweets I have observed this week range from locals moaning about the gulls’ noise, existence and habit of defecating everywhere. The funniest thing was, although everyone seems to hate the birds, there were a number of tweets on Monday, made by appalled residents who had spotted some dead gulls lying in the road. What do you actually want, people?
The word killer is an exaggeration; although the way some people carried on, you would have thought some being on high had sent the insects to Bath to murder us all. In reality, a few larger than life ants, some with wings, hatched one hot afternoon and crawled about a bit. By the morning they were all dead. Some people blaming the seagulls for their demise. Yes, seriously.
A lot of posh toffs live in Bath. Therefore the proposal of a Primark opening in the city centre predictably sent a wave of fake outrage across the west country Internet. Until now, Bath hasn’t had a Primark – a popular, budget clothes store. The nearest one being in Bristol. No doubt the local snobs would love it on Saturday afternoons, as all the “riff raff” would leave city like rats, on the X39 bus to Bristol, to pick up some affordable rags from the shop they consider beneath them, leaving the streets of Bath free of commoners and allowing the upper classes to enjoy copious glasses of Pimms and trips to The Rec. When this Primark opens in Bath, I honestly think it will kill some of more toffs. Those who are still living after The Pound Shop opened last year.
Not the train station station, named Bath Spa. Nor the posh swimming pool of the same name. No I’m on about the city where I reside, known as Bath. It has come to my attention that some people are calling the city “Bath Spa”. These people are clearly very, very wrong, but they seem insistent upon it. To be honest, I couldn’t give a shit, but it’s annoyed many tweeters, who are again suffering from fake outrage at the fact their city has been called anything but its correct title. Snobs. If you ask me, we should go back to calling the city Aquae Sulis. I’m a man of class and tradition, after all.
There was a plague of ladybirds in Bath today. I returned home from work to find almost 20 of the things had crawled in through an open window into my bedroom.
Tomorrow I will be hoping that blood does not pour from my bathroom taps, frogs do not fall from the sky and I do not grow boils all over my body.
On this website, you’ll find me blogging (almost) daily about everyday life, living in Bath, working with computers, and the occasional bit of football stuff thrown in.
If you're expecting The Man Booker Prize, you've come to the wrong place. If you want to read a collection of sometimes eccentric, often disturbing and rarely amusing ramblings, gorge your eyes on this.