I can't buy a fuckin break these days. The Lady Friend and I just finally got all set up in our new apartment and shit is looking official. I mean we're dropping money on drapes, wine racks, and all sorts of real people shit. But just when I think we're all set and I can kick back with a brew and relax, I come home and find this prehistoric looking mother crawling across the floor. Normally I'm not one to freak out and jump on a chair because of a bug but the second I got done killing it I walked into the kitchen and saw three more of these bitches bolt like they were at a kegger and the police just rolled in. After killing about 8 in a span of 4 hours I'm paranoid as shit and just wasted my entire Friday morning hanging out with John Goodman from Arachnophobia.
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