2:51 p.m. - 2005-10-03
Why I Need a Metal House
A funny thing happened last night in the bathroom. I had gone in there to do the things one would normally do in the bathroom -- namely, my taxes -- when I noticed an ant-like insect thing in my sink. Not that big a deal; it had probably just gotten lost on its way to the buffet in the sink next door. I helpfully pointed it in the right direction with some water to keep it from getting dehydrated, observing that it kind of resembled another such insect that had been trying on my sock earlier (it didn't fit). Anyhoodles, I lifted the lid to my black-or-blue ink pen slash number two pencil compartment and noticed several of the insect's cousins had apparently decided to go skinny dipping. "Now that's odd," says I to myself. Odder still, there were a few more of these anty things on the edge of my sink. (Did I mention that they also had wings? Yeah, they had wings. I guess to keep from drowning.) Naturally, I decide to turn on CNN to see if maybe there's something I need to know. Like maybe Halloween has come early for the IRS and they're making house calls dressed like flying ants. But first, I take a little look-see around my commode-abode, just in caes another investigator is behind me with a wok or something. That's when I discover a whole pile of them in the middle of the floor. That's also when I holler for my Troll. I hadn't fed him in about a week and a half, seeing that Sunday school is no longer being held in the parking lot for some reason, so I figured the flying ground agents would make a nice t.v. dinner for him. Clemmie was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, however, and her gaze was directed towards yet more of the scrawny little money pilots. At this point, my mind is saying "WTF?!," but in much more refined terms, I'm sure. Upon conducting a brief examination, the Troll and I discover there are also quite a few of these IRS flies in one of the sand toilets. This evidence is mildly perturbing. So is the inarguable fact that, with the exception of the wayward buffet bug, all of our little visitors are dead. Therefore, they CAN'T be the IRS; they would never make a mass suicide pact, because you just can't take it with you. Which can only mean one thing...and as soon as I figure out what that is, I'll let you know.

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