Myrddins told me that she too has spotted bugs in her homes, but that they are the massive, scary kind that make that horrible clicking noise when they run. I don't have those.
The super/friend upstairs has called the exterminator, which is cool, except that my experience with exterminators is that they don't pull out the appliances to spray around
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I'm imagining a tiny roach internment camp and a long line of anthropomorphic roaches with bindles over their shoulders marching along an insect trail of tears.
Though given the numbers you've been posting there's not much hope for even a tortured survival should they submit to your demands.
It's all rather bleak and depressing, until common sense slides back into place and ... oh wait, they're fucking roaches.
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I saw it around 1pm on its back in the bathroom, where it had apparently followed me in its indignation last night, looking to slap me around for getting it wet.
It was still convulsing.
I fucking hate roaches.
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