It was past midnight and I was coming back home for the umpteenth time that day. Bear with me. I felt like I was the only soul for miles. I really did.
On my way to the other side of the road, though, I crossed paths with a roach. Now, I have never really trusted them. I am led to think any non-turquoise cockroach is not one of the lucky ones. Of the magical persuasion, if you will.
As I was looking down trying not to step on it, the bastard roach moved its disgusting limbs in a sort of dance and, apparently, read my mind.
"Would you stop with the mental quivering, you sad little man? You're giving me a friggin' headache."
The nerve on that nosy little bugger.
On my way to the other side of the road, though, I crossed paths with a roach. Now, I have never really trusted them. I am led to think any non-turquoise cockroach is not one of the lucky ones. Of the magical persuasion, if you will.
As I was looking down trying not to step on it, the bastard roach moved its disgusting limbs in a sort of dance and, apparently, read my mind.
"Would you stop with the mental quivering, you sad little man? You're giving me a friggin' headache."
The nerve on that nosy little bugger.
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