RANT: Moths Flying Into My Room
So I'm watching this bastard fly around my room and he's just totally out of control. The motherfucker has no flying skills what so ever. He's head butting the ceiling, fuckin' flying face first into the walls, bouncing off the god damn furniture, I mean he's clearly under the influence of something...
"Just give me my space cock sucker," I tell him. But sure enough, like most moths, they gotta fly all up in your business. Why? Because moths seem to think they are top of the food chain. You see thats the thing. Most creatures, insects, animals, etc. are intelligent enough to keep their distance from the average human being. You know, because they understand humans are large creatures who will fuck them up something fierce. Not moths. At least, not this moth. The second this moth came barging through my bedroom window it was clear he had beef with me. I mean how else can you explain his actions?
So I jump up off my chair and now it's on. This prick cocksucker couldn't leave well enough alone, he started flying into my air space and my air space is off limits to the average winged creature. Kinda like the White House. I grab my Sports Illustrated, roll it into a giant swat format and start methodically and strategically trying to knock this punk bitch into the middle of next week. I mean I'm taking some serious whacks at him. I'm like Bonds in the batting cage. After swinging and missing several times, I realized that connecting was going to be alot more difficult than I imagined and frustration started setting in. The more I swung and missed, the faster and more agressive the moth became. Plus, he was busting out some serious Top Gun manuevers in mid air. By no means was he trying to avoid my giant Sports Illustrated paper roll. He was flying right through fire to get at me.
All of a sudden I start realizing that he's flying in a designed pattern. Probably learned that shit in the Air Force, thats when I decide to out smart him with some old fashioned anticipation. I firmly grip my Sports Illustrated and proceed and take a large swing at a location and not the target. Brilliant move except when I swung and missed, the giant moth somehow made a run for it and barricaded himself up my nostril hole. I'm fucking serious...
I drop my Sports Illustrated and frantically bolt out of my room screaming for help. "SOMEBODY HELP ME! CALL 911!!" My roommate comes running out of his room wondering why the fuck is going on and at this point I could feel the moth just embedding himself deeper and deeper up my beak hole. I mean he's clearly setting up camp in there.
"Whats wrong? Whats wrong?" says my roommate.
"Whats wrong? A fucking moth just flew up my nose you asshole!"