Sunday, April 17, 2011


They say that cockroaches can survive in almost any environment.  When I was a kid, I remember hearing how, after a nuclear holocaust, there will be nothing left on earth, other than cockroaches.  The nasty little fuckers will rule the planet.

So, aside from a crunchy squish, one would imagine that, offing a roach would be a difficult task.

Unless you're the guy in the office next to mine.

I've joked with him about how dishevelled he is, how he looks like a homeless guy.  He's got shit on his glasses, food stains on his clothes, his monitors have a thick layer of dust on them and if you turn his keyboard upside down, you'll get a smorgasbord of crumbs, enough to create a feast of leftovers, suitable for an army.

I won't touch his keyboard, I won't use the mouse and I won't sit at his desk.  If he asks me to look something up on his computer, I tell him I can't do it.  I can't sit in his chair for fear of catching the ever frightening cooties that I know roam his office, waiting to leap onto a new host, infecting them with ailments long since considered eradicated from society.

Spending any amount of time in his office is the equivalent of wandering the jungles where ebola and black death are still killing whole villages.  To sit in his office is to invite a flesh eating bacteria to devour your soft, pink skin.

So, when he asked me to come into his office this morning, to help him figure out some dilemma or other, I hesitated and then agreed but, first I put on my leather jacket, zipped it up to the chin, grabbed a handful of alcohol rubs and some purell and gingerly stepped into his room.

And what did I see?

A cockroach lying on the floor, wings half spread.  The poor little creature must have accidentally crawled into the room via some hole in the wall and met its match - the air.

The roach actually looked like it was making a last ditched effort to fly out of there and, upon taking one last gasp, didn't have the strength to fully extend those nasty brown wings and take flight. 

So, there you have it.  Cockroaches are probably crawling all over Fukushima, glowing from radiation and smiling but, in the office next to mine, they're dying.

I've contacted the CDC as I feel it necessary to cordon off the room and ensure that whatever horrific things reside in that room, are kept in that room.

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