Myrtle: My Trip to the Holy Land or Hooray for Dollywood

Once again my blog post has been hijacked. Myrtle has resorted to blackmail if I don’t let her write a post today. She has threatened to release some very unflattering photos of me at a pumpkin festival. Let’s just say I’ll never enter a giant corn maze again. Once I figured out I could make my own hole in the cornstalk walls I was out of there in a matter of minutes. Too bad my need was a restroom in a matter of seconds.

 

dolly-parton-at-dollywoodDouger graciously allowed me to write in his blob thingy today to tell you about my trip to Pigeon Forge and the holy land, Dollywood. I went with my friend from church, Hazel. This proved to be a huge mistake. First of all we shared a motel room. This was wrong on so many levels. My dear friend Hazel, whom I’ve only seen in her church garb, likes to prance around in the confines of the room nearly naked. This is only made worse by the fact that she is sporting some pretty impressive breasticles. Keep in mind she is a mere child of 82 so in her day I’m sure she had some back problems. Now they’re easier to carry because they hang a little lower than the belt area. It’s just not what you want to see while you’re trying to watch Pat Sajak and the wheel. He is a cutie.

We decided to save money by buying our food and eating in the motel room. I had a nice big ham sandwich on my plate along with some chips. I set my plate in the floor for a second while I located something to watch on the television. Hazel came over to ask me how I liked a photo on her phone. It was of a grand baby or great grand baby, I don’t remember, she has a gazillion family members. As I handed her phone back to her and bent to grab my plate I noticed several of my chips had spilled onto the floor. Reaching for them I realized in horror, they were attached to Hazel’s toes. Fighting my gag reflex I retrieved my plate from the floor and promptly threw it away. That image still haunts my dreams.

I’ll write more about my trip with Hazel later, when Douger turns his back or I can knock him out. Either way I’ll be back. Until then keep your powder dry and your food off the floor.

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Another Hair Raising Encounter

I shared in an earlier post about my fear and hatred of Stink Bugs. This morning I had another encounter with one of the little beasts. I’m not sure how they’re getting in but the house is 80 years old. There must be hundreds of places these insects can enter. This thought invoked an involuntary shiver.

In an effort to not bore you I’ll give the short definition of Entomophobia. It is the excessive or unrealistic fear of one or more classes of insect. My fear has a name and that name is Entomophobia. Okay, that doesn’t make it sound any manlier and I really don’t feel any better about it.stink-bug

Back to my earlier encounter. The little bugger was on the wall just outside the pantry. It was about eye level. My first reaction was to back up quickly. My dog, Otis, who was evidently on my heels, didn’t pick up on my abject terror. I tripped, he ran, but the bug, the instigator of this meeting, didn’t move. Once I caught my breath and finished my rant at Otis for following too close. I returned my attention to the offending insect.

As if realizing my full attention was now on it, the bug began to crawl up the wall. In a flash I ran to the nearest box of tissue. I quickly withdrew three of the tissues then paused and grabbed two more. This definitely warranted a five tissue attack. Back at the wall I reached for the Stink Bug with tissues in hand. When I made contact I dropped the tissue and Bug to the floor. With reflexes normally reserved for jungle cats and striking snakes I grabbed the entire bundle from the carpet and began to squeeze. With a Stink Bug there is no catch and release. Once you grab one they release a noxious odor that permeates skin, clothes, and, evidently, nostril hairs. The smell can last for hours.

Back to the squeezing of the bundle, I ran to the kitchen garbage hoping the creature had a quick death. If not I would have Stink Bug smell all over my hands, clothes, and nose hairs and the little devil could crawl out and strike again. Another involuntary shiver just ran down my spine. Against all odds it seems as though I won this battle. There was a minor stink that lasted mere minutes and I don’t think this guy will be escaping from the garbage.

Today was another victory in my war with the insect world. I’m just glad this Stink Bug didn’t have any backup from a spider or even worse, a Spider Cricket.