Yes, I HATE them. I came home today to find some ants in my kitchen. ARGH! I almost had a heart attack. I got out the good old ant killer and sprayed every last one of those nasty little buggers until they were all good and dead. Of course, I had to go and clean my kitchen after that. I couldn't have dead ants on my floor. Gross! So I mopped the floor with bleach. Let's see them try to come back now! HA! Of course, this is the normal course of events for the summer. I am surprised that they didn't invade sooner. When it is over 100 degrees outside, wouldn't you want to be indoors? Last year they picked my bathroom to invade. They always come into my apartment in the summertime. My last apartment was invaded all the time by those nasty fire ants. They SUCK! They bite and bite and bite, and then they leave these nasty little red, burning, itchy bumps all over where they bit you.
My hatred for ants began when I was about 15 years old. I was climbing a tree (I know...15 years old and climbing trees - insert laugh here) and went grabbing for a branch, unbeknownst to me that a colony of fire ants had picked that very same branch to build their nest on. I grabbed the branch, and almost at once, I felt what was like a thousand tiny, red-hot needles poking into my hand and arm. I looked at my arm, only to see, to my horror, that it had turned red and black from the ants. I screamed and let go of the branch and fell about 10 feet down to the ground. I don't know what hurt worse...falling on my ass, or the ant bites on my hand and arm.
My arm was swollen with ant bites for days, and it was at that point that I vowed my revenge on all ants, big and small. Death to the ants!
My other blogs:
No comments:
Post a Comment