So yesterday I was mowing the lawn and a grasshopper tried to murder my neck. Any of you who actually know me are likely aware of my irrational fear of bugs. Seriously, everything from caterpillars to wasps, moths to grasshoppers. Very few bugs escape the umbrella of my irrationality.
So I was driving the mower and suddenly this devil grasshopper makes a b line for my jugular. I felt it hit, experienced a mild freak out, and then continued mowing. As I chugged along, I started to foster a mental image of this horrible little creature stealthily burrowing into my neck. Even though I could no longer feel it, I started to fear that it was probably still latched on there. So I reached up and felt where it had hit, and sure enough felt grasshopper spines. I re-freaked out, and slapped it away from my palpitating neck artery. It consequentially landed almost in my line of travel, and I slightly veered to the left, triumphantly blending it into oblivion.
Speaking of filthy things. Tonight Colin and I ate at Hoppers. As we walked in and sat down, I noticed this decently cute girl practically burrowing into the arm pit of this gigantic creature of a man. He had one of the sickest goatees I have ever seen. Big hulky fellow. Bald, tats, earings. Had to have stank of sweat and beer.
Whatever. Occasionally one encounters cute girls hanging out with freaks of nature. That wasn't really my concern. The horrifying, and supremely baffling thing was the fact that he was most definitely at least 30, while she couldn't have been more than 19. And I think I'm being pretty generous in that estimate. I was pretty disgusted throughout the meal and just kept saying to Colin..."How? How does this happen? I'm so confused right now."
I don't ever want to have daughters. I fear that if my little girl ever brought that gorilla biter home I would probably steal my father's golden rifle and bury a flaming bullet of righteous indignation in his chest. I'm sorry, but no man 15 years her senior shall ever date my daughter. Assuming I ever manage to procreate. Also assuming I don't do that very thing when I'm 33 and unwed.
I hate grasshoppers and pervs.