Disclaimer: I own this sucker; me Kasey Thacker. However, I claim it just as much as a redheaded step child who burnt down the neighbors farm.

Death to Lady Bugs: meaniless drivel about life and my hatred for lady bugs.

I hope lady bugs see me as their god of death.

That's what I was thinking as I vacuumed my curtains for the fifth time that day. The plague of red and black spots kept refilling itself. No one knows why the bugs began appearing in droves. Maybe someone pissed off Moses again. Never underestimate a religious nomad, especially if he's played by Charelton Heston. Maybe I should be smearing goat's blood on my front door. My mother would just love that.

I sucked up another lady bug. It was like holding back the ocean with a shallow spoon and a wish. Zip. Another in the bag. Zip. Sucked up another. More appear. I'm in a horror movie, mowing down zombies. For every one I take out, another rises to take its place.

Too bad lady bugs live in an instinct guided world. Gods cannot exist in their mindset. God is born in thoughts. Lady bugs have none. Does the belief in God create God? Does something cease to exist if no one believes in it?

I tried that tactic with the bugs. It didn't work.

Zip. Zip. Even though they cannot think, it comforts me to imagine lady bugs telling their children to eat their supper or KASEY THE EVIL GOD OF DEATH would get them. In their nightmares, they dream of the portable void to hell sucking them up to a ever lasting torment. The feeling is a rush. Does the grim reaper feel this way? Or has the eons of reaping become bland and unexciting?

Too bad. Everyone should enjoy their work.

........................................ZIP........................................ZIP.................................

Little black and red dots are everywhere. Are we only bugs on God's curtains? If so, I can't really blame him for smacking us down. If I had the power to knock all of the human bugs off my curtains I would do so in a heartbeat. Good thing God's a lot nicer than me.

These thoughts should be sparking a bit of compassion in my black little heart, but I feel nothing but glee. I can't wait to take the bugs outside and drown them. Then I'll laugh evilly like the antagonist in a bad Bond film.

Zip. MwHahahahahah. Zip. Zip. Mwhahahha. Zip.

Good Times. Good Times.

The batteries on my Black and Decker Dustbuster ran out. God's batteries never run out. God is the true energizer bunny. The person who created the pink bunny with a drum had a glimpse of God. But don't tell Energizer. There may be copyright issues.

Zip. Zip.

My mother comes in and sings a nursery rhyme...

Lady bug Lady bug burn burn burn Time is dire!
Your children are on fire and your house will burn!

Then she leaves, without helping, and leaving me with curious ideas of her morbid childhood.

Why are they called lady bugs anyhow? There must be gentlemen bugs too. Otherwise, were do baby bugs come from?

Other than from my window.

Zip. Zip. Not to mention, why are they called lady bugs? They're undeserving of such a polite term. I should spearhead a campaign to change the term to something more appropriate. From now on, I'm calling them BITCH BUGS.

I almost expect some PETA person to jump out of the woodwork covered in ketchup. "Murderer! Murderer!" I would be quite happy to package all of the bugs up and send them away to the PETA headquarters. Unfortunately, I think it might be seen as an act of bio terrorism.

They stink when you kill them.

The rancid smell is almost like the lady bug's last act of defiance. It's like giving me the finger as their life slowly draws out. I check the internet. Terminex? Nope, not helpful. I check again. Some insane people are selling them for $74 dollars a gallon. People put them in their gardens to eat smaller bugs. Why aren't I getting in on that? One site totes that they are "fun and nice to watch". Sounds like the idiotic babblings of someone whose never picked them out of their cereal. The site says to put a nylon bag in the vacuum cleaner to save them from getting chopped up. Well, I have one thing to say about that...

ZIP. ZIP. ZIP.

The last bug is sucked up.

Kasey the GOD OF DEATH reigns supreme.

Copyright: Kasey Thacker 2003. Don't steal, 'cause there's plenty of things out there that are much more worthy of swiping.