Moronic Monday- Ants in My Pants

This is a true mostly true story that I posted last June.  With the weather warming up an the ants on the attack again I thought I would re-post this to warn you all.  Think of it as a crotch PSA.  You are welcome.

There is no celebratory hump day here. The lady garden is closed after a vicious and devastating attack.  I am sad to report there has been an invasion of the utmost horror.

About a week ago I got attacked during the night by what appeared to be a random  drive by ant biting.  I complained to my husband and flopped around like a bird with a broken wing for the designated 3 days required to prove you are truly injured.  It happened just 3 days after thezombie spider bite on my face and the day prior to the P.O.W. Mouse found in our home by our evil cat Dante.

Obviously we made some type of “Lion King  circle of life”  Faux Pas by building our home in the middle of the stinking boon docks.   I mean really did I think brick and hardwood floors, double paned windows  and walls would stop these beast from reclaiming their land?

My facebook friends  tweeps provided all kinds of helps and hints, mostly that I should probably clean my house.  This really showed who knows me and who doesn’t because I pretty much suck and fail at cleaning,  and YOU KNOW I have a bug phobia since I burned down my house before here.

So we did the little bait things and some chalk stuff and blah blah yaddy yah.  No visual sign of the dirty little buggers we must be cool.

Tuesday 142pm -I go into my room and pick my shorts up off the foot of the bed and slip them on.  I get this warm fuzzy feeling and for a moment think to myself, ” self, why are you warm and fuzzy in your own bedroom, during the day, sobber?”  and then BAM..  the warm fuzzies turn into a chernobyl type event upon every area of my body covered by my shorts.   It gets really blurry from there people.

I tried to stay conscious and not run screaming butt naked through the woods.  As you know I always say, ” I don’t run unless there is a fire or a sale.”  Well now we can add unless there are ants attacking my crotch to that list.

I do run. Or at least attempt to run while sliding my shorts off.  I saw the rubbing alcohol but the 1 brain cell that wasn’t screaming, ” light yourself on fire it will hurt less”  kicked in and I did not pour rubbing alcohol on my kooter. Thank the gods.  I instead dove in the shower with the trojan horse of insect war  shorts still tangled around 1 very appetizing foot.

There were approximately   eleventy kajillion of those little beasts of death upon my personage and they would not go down the drain fast enough. I watched the mix of snot and tears wash off me but these little spawns of all that is evil held on with all their maniacal might.

I get dressed in clothes from the laundry room that are certified ant free. I email my husband and notify facebook in the event I go into some sort of venom shock and die. I don’t want to pull and Anna Nicole when I go I want you guys to know why and how.  You are welcome.

This is how it played out, in our emails…

From: ThePeachy1

HOLOY shit.

ok   as somone who didn’t want to do anyway that just sucked.  I grabbed my blue jean shorts off the foot of the bed and slid them on, my entire lower body caught on fire, I pulled it down about 100 ants all over me, biting, me stinging me  I am injured dude, injured, do you hear me?  freaking ants in my pants has an entire new meaning and it’s NOT cool.

not cool at all.

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I put this on his facebook wall, thus calling him out in front of all his 2500 mafia war friends..

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His email response-

I will be coming home early with the death dealing stuff….

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My night in shining Sentra arrived 3 hours early and brought with him those mysterious weapons of mass destruction everyone has been looking for all these years. Apparently they are available at a home improvement store in any town.  He geared up for battled with tools of which I had never seen.

Our bedroom was fogged not once but twice, the perimeter of our house was sprayed, then entire 3 acres had ant poison pellets, there was chalk placed at every conceivable entry point no matter how small.  He attacked with such a chemical vengeance his wrath will go down in the ant history halls of fame, much like the fall of Rome in our History Books .  He showed no mercy, no pity and he took no prisoners. Beds were stripped furniture was moved, it was on people.  I called my brave knight to defend my junk and he stepped up to the plate and smashed his opponent with powerful chemical warfare only seen in post apocalyptic movies.

My Hero..

So apparently my brain can hang out my head and that’s ok, but so help me bob, if you bite me on the HUHA and my man will obliterate you out of existence.

Now I have to go, we have to change the filters in our haz mat suits every couple of hours for the next 6 months, or until this chemical fog lifts.  Sorry ozone but my lady bits need to be safe..

So from my neosporin throne I shout to my man, “OFF WITH THEIR HEADS !”

XO

PEACH OUT