Here is my "laugh at the crazy northerner" moment of the day.
These bugs you southerners call "roaches" FREAK ME OUT!!! To say I hate them does not even capture my true feelings. When I see one I instinctively do the following, almost always in this order:
1) Scream like a little girl
2) Yell "I F**kin hate these bugs!!" (Even if I am the only one within a 10 mile radius.)
3) Yell "I F**kin hate the south!"
4) Grab the nearest aerosol can & spray the crap out of it.
5) When I think it is safe to get closer I drop something heavy on it until I am SURE it is dead.
6) Run into the house (or if heaven forbid it made its way into my house, run into another room) with the "willies", wash my hands as if I were walking into an OR, then still cursing get something to drink & try to calm down.
Tonight as I was opened the garage door to throw something into the recycle container I saw this evil creature walking around near the steps. My girlish scream made him jump & he just stopped moving. As if he was thinking "Holy crap what was that. Maybe if I stand still it will go away" Silly bug - don't you know who you are dealing with.
I quickly close the door & run to the hall closet where all I can find are 3 spray cans of Lysol. I go back to the laundry room & open the door - I spot him hiding behind the dehumidifier so I blast him. I must have emptied a quarter of that can on this bugger & he was still moving. So quick I look around (b/c I am NOT going to let him out of my sight) & find a spray can of sunscreen. OK that might work so I blast him with that. No dice but he is moving a bit slower. Woo-Hoo. Now I am in the garage & run to the utility shelf & pull out a can of wasp killer - JACKPOT! Now I walk back to the stumbling bug & BLAST him with the wasp killer. STILL he is moving. FUCK! So all I could do was pick up a container of old electronics & drop it on his sorry butt.
Dead at Last, Dead at Last. Thankfully he is Dead at Last.