I Hate Bugs: Camel Cricket

Those who know me know my biggest fear (spiders). But there is another species of spider that lurks in my basement. It is the Camel Cricket. It's a cricket and spider hybrid with the ability to jump high (knee height) and quickly. It also never retreats but jumps TOWARDS it's attacker. It recently hopped through my legs, almost toying with me as a predator - note: I soon killed him!

Through out the years my main way to kill them was calling my dad to do it, but he got tired of helping his "daughter." So then I moved on to the vacuum style of execution. But that cannot work when the vacuum is upstairs. So I shall let those plagued by these Zelda enemy wannabes in on a little secret:

I kill them by placing my (plastic) garbage can (rightside up) on top of them (for some reason the stupid creature does not avoid this). Now the bottom of the can is slightly domed, so they are not dead (learned that one the hard way)then I scrape the can along to the side which will eventually leave you a greatly crippled camel cricket. From there I finish the job and simultaneously dispose of the carcass with a large amount of paper towels.

I hope this helps rid you of these foul creatures.

-a.

The Commandant

The commandant was signing off old reports at the close of the work week. Twelve past seventeen hundred, and here the commandant was gracing blank lines with his signature (a one-lined self portrait).

“Commandant?” asked his secretary.

“At ease Audrey. It’s after hours. What can I do for you?”

“Well sir they say that the snow won’t be letting up anytime soon. Perhaps you could escort me to my car as you exit?”

“I’d be honored Audrey, but I won’t be leaving just yet. But there’s always time to help a lady to her car.”

The commandant grabbed his coat and let Audrey lead him the way. He was very happily married once and well over the age to even consider courting her, so the feelings she made him feel were just of genuine kindness. She never once stared at his eye patch nor treated him any differently because he wore one. She neither gave him more or less respect, only his just amount. He appreciated this more than anything. He adored their camaraderie and kinship.

He also missed being looked at and thought of so sincerely since his wife had passed.

They walked single file from the second floor stairs to the first floor, as they came to the exit, the commandant scurried around Audrey to open it for her. She laughed and gave a smile and a nod to let him know it was well appreciated.

“Well you weren’t kidding, Audrey, this snow certainly won’t be letting up anytime soon.”

“I told you sir.”

“And this wind is harsh. I can barely hear you.”

“WHAT?” Audrey exclaimed.

“I said-“

“I know, I was just kidding.”

They now got to walk side by side outdoors, shielding their eyes with their left hand from the snow flurries.

“Well this is my car.”

“I know.” The commandant smiled.

“OK, well please leave soon, and I will see you bright and early Monday morning.”

“O Five Hundred.”

Audrey nodded and got into her car. Threw the lights on, and pumped the heat. Put on her windshield wipers and started to drive off.

As she was about five feet from the commandant he noticed a small man or animal in her backseat. The thing had a nasty habit of shaking, sort of like it was skipping through time by single seconds. It looked up out the back windshield gave an open mouthed smile, showing off it’s black/yellow teeth, and parading it’s bright red tongue between them.

The commandant had no idea what was going on, so he started to run after Audrey’s vehicle and shout to her. But the wind was much too harsh for his words not to be deflected by snow, wind or both. In a moment her car was out of view from the flurries. The commandant knew that he had to get to his car and follow her. As he reached into his coat pocket he noticed that his keys were not there.

“DAMMITT! I must’ve left them at my desk.”

The commandant ran as fast as he could through the snow, bolted up the stairs to the second floor where he met his empty office and desk. He reached for his keys and ran right back out, as he approached the stairs he lost his footing and tumbled, and tumbled and tumbled to the bottom of the stairs. He had a terrible wound on his head.

*****

When he woke up he was surrounded by several men standing over him. He tried to jump to his feet, but they restrained him.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO ME?!”

“Easy fella’. Just relax. You have a nasty gash on your head that we need to treat.”

“LET GO OF ME!”

”Hold still!” one of the men said.

He fought, and fidgeted but to no avail.

“WHAT DAY IS IT!?” he shouted.

“Please lie still.”

“I’ll lie still if you tell me, damn you!”

“It’s Monday.”

He did not like this one bit. How could three days go by so quickly? He thought to himself. What of Audrey and that vibrating man?

“HELP!”

”LIE STILL DAMMITT!” Said the man with the thick glasses on.

“AUDREY! AUDREY!”

The men holding him down became very silent and looked at the oldest one standing behind them, he was wearing a white lab coat and had a long needle in his hand.

“Who was supposed to give this man his meds last night?”

The men holding the commandant down remained silent.

“WHO!?” The man shouted.

The men started to look about the room, then the one with the glasses broke the awkward silence.

“It was Roberts sir. He had to leave early-“

The doctor interrupted.

“I know he left early! I’ll deal with him later. As for you pathetic clowns, make room for me!”

“Make room for Dr. Ackerman boys!” the largest man of the bunch shouted.

“Now let’s see what happens when we do this.” and with that the doctor flicked the needle with his middle finger.

The room went dark.

*****

The snow was still covering up the parking lot. The commandant saw two dark figures approaching from the east. He couldn’t help but stare. He couldn’t make out who they were but felt a sudden urge to hide. He ran inside a nearby car to cover his frame from the two strangers. They seemed to be laughing, although with this wind it was hard to hear anything. He cowered in the back seat to get warm and got down low.

The driver side door swung open! The door then slammed shut. All that could be heard was a flick of the car lights, the extreme blast of heat pumping into the car, and the subtle thuds of what can only be assumed as the windshield wipers.

The car started to move.

The commandant was rather nervous. He was so afraid to make a sound and startle the driver. So he ever so softly lifted his head and peeked out the rear windshield. He saw the little man shaking, twitching and vibrating once again. His sly, spaced-tooth grin ever so repulsive. He waved good-bye to the commandant, pulled out a tiny flute from his coat pocket and began to play it while prancing in the snow outside of the French Army building.

“What the hell?” The commandant said softly to himself.

The commandant glanced up at the driver who was in fact Audrey. He sighed with relief. At that moment Audrey thought she heard something in the backseat. She cautiously turned her head only to find the shaking man in her backseat full of gaping sharp teeth and devoid of good fortune.

Audrey screamed in absolute terror and lost control of the vehicle. The commandant couldn’t understand why she was screaming at him and telling him to get away. He tried to calm her down, but it was all in vain for she let go of the steering wheel a long time ago. The car slammed into another military building. Both Audrey and the commandant were dead on impact.

*****

In a cold, stainless steel room waits a man in a long lab coat. He stands there with his eyes staring dead straight at the only entranceway to the room. He has been waiting here for quite some time now.

The door opens, and Dr. Ackerman bursts through. He seems to be in a rush.

“Dr. Barton my apologies.”

“What has taken you so damn long Ackerman?!”

“Sir…please give me a second to just…catch…my breath.” Dr. Ackerman hunched over clenching the file he held in his left hand.

Dr. Barton didn’t want excuses, or pardons. He wanted results.

“On with it Ackerman!!”

Dr. Ackerman nodded and did his best to swallow with what little saliva he had remaining in his throat.

“Yes sir. It seems the patient died when I gave him his dose from Monday morning.”

“What were his vitals?”

“They are all here in his chart.” Dr. Ackerman handed Dr. Barton the folder he ran in with. Dr. Barton was reading it over while Ackerman continued.

“When he came to, after the first serum which we gave him Friday afternoon, he seemed intent on knowing what day it was. He also kept screaming for an…um. Just one second I have it written down in my notepad here.” Dr. Ackerman reached into his lab coat front pocket for his notes. “Ah here it is ‘Audrey.’ He kept screaming for a lady named Audrey.”

Dr. Barton looked up from the file. “It says here in the patient’s file that he was married to an Audrey Beaumont for a few years. She was killed in a car accident twenty-two years ago. The Military Police blamed it on the slippery roads since she was driving in a blizzard.”

“Well that makes sense for him to revisit such extreme trauma when induced, but sir what doesn’t seem to have any explanation is the patient’s cause of death.”

“What were his symptoms?”

“No symptoms sir. Now you know he was left strapped to a bed and under round the clock surveillance right?”

“Yes of course! On with it!”

“Well sir, patient 77X4Y, or “the commandant,” apparently suffered and possibly died from a crushed ribcage, broken cheek bones, and intense internal bleeding at about two hours ago.”

A very large smile appeared on Dr. Barton’s aged face.

“Well then the serum seems to be a success, doesn’t it, Dr. Ackerman?”

Be Seeing You

Amazing News! I have just discovered that episodes of the Prisoner are being aired on IFC.

Terrible News! My mom does not like the Prisoner. She gave me her critique of it: "Oh, this is AW-ful, Adam. I can't believe you watch this."

Sadly, she also did not appreciate the bubble that chases people while having an awesome, creepy hum. As usual she just doesn't get her nerdy, out of work, comedy writing son. But then again, what woman could. Pssshhhh...

-a.

I'm a Fifty Year Old Man

I noticed that I dress, act and live out the life of a middle-aged man. I love slacks, thick button-ups, black coffee, early bird specials, reading, staying in, and driving slowly.

Unfortunately I don't have the following traits of a middle-aged man: pension, benefits, job, house and a boat.

Gosh, life's hard when you want to start a band, and have dinner ready by 3:30pm.

Babysitters Unite and Take a Stand!

RIOT!

In Michigan a woman who watches her neighbors kids for one hour a day (inside her house) is being attacked by the Michigan Dept. of Human Resources (as if that's there real name). They claim that she is violating a law in regards to operating a day care center while being unlicensed.

Listen folks, sure it starts with babysitting, but it will certainly not end there. What's next? Banning trick-or-treating because it promotes trespassing? What really gets my goose (and gander!) is that a man from Flint Michigan called me earlier today saying that he saw my resume on monster.com and think that I'd be a great asset to their sales force. Well I will be taking a stand for babysitters across the US nation by ignoring this no name company's phone call -and not just because the caller kept referring to me as "Aydam"- but because I believe in a worry free work force. People should just be able to go all willy-nilly and not worry about "the man" bringing them down.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a child to illegally watch over. That's right, you heard me.

-a.

3 Year Anniversary!

Today is my 3 year anniversary of doing stand up comedy. Three years ago today I decided to get off my ass, go to Maui Taco in Manhattan, and pay Bill E. Scott $5 to chew gum, read a letter from my dead dog, and sing an acapella rendition of Return of the Fly by the Misfits. And yes, it was as exciting as you assume. The crowd was not too sure what to make of it, and luckily I only did the gum chewing bit one other time (even though I still love it).

Well here's the only surviving video of that night. And don't worry I don't plan on quitting my day job...yet! (I'm actually on my way to an interview).

NOTE: Yes, I did plan out my outfit that night. I knew I'd look my coolest in a purple hoodie, grey pants, and my sweet Quake 4 shirt.

Plastic Surgery Disasters

Hollywood today is all about who made the latest sex tape, who looks the youngest, and who got the best plastic surgery done. Unfortunately this "trend" or "lifestyle" has breached through to other industries. A hero of mine has fallen, and it is time that I address this issue.

I am ashamed to announce that the figure pictured on the left is none other than Count Chocula. This is what I refer to as his "Joan Rivers" days. His whole face looks like a pair of wax lips. Roger Rabbit doesn't even look this fake. And yet here stands a once strong and prominent figure in our children's sugary mornings. I was lucky enough to sit down with Count Chocula and ask him about these pressing matters:

Adam: Hello Count Chocula.
Count: Hello.
Adam: I'm just going to spearhead this interview.
Count: Go for it.
Adam: Why have you chosen to get plastic surgery?
Count: I'm glad you asked that, you see no one wants to see an lethargic, wrinkled, old man on the cover of their cereal box. They want hot, young sex kittens purring at them to have another bowl. I can't purr if I ain't on the box.
Adam: I understand what you're saying, but what about Tony the Tiger? He never got any work done.
Count: (laughs) Oh is that what you think? Well he did about 4 years ago. That work just can't be shown on the cover of a cereal box.
Adam: Oh my.
[awkward silence]
Adam: Is it true that you and General Mills are currently in disputes? I mean on the most recent box of your cereal they have an old photograph of you.
Count: Yes, they have my old headshot on the cover of the box. No we are not having any problems. I just was sick for a photoshoot. It was near the deadline, and so one of the three gay bakers for Cinnamon Toast Crunch suggested they just use my old headshot, because he had a sufle' in the oven and needed to hurry home from the photoshoot.
Adam: Wait - those bakers are gay?
Count: I'd love to gossip about who's gay in the cereal industry but I really need to get going. Cap'n Crunch promised to take me out on his boat today.
Adam: Oh, well then may I suggest that we do this again?
Count: I'd love to.
Adam: Let me just say "thank you" to my guest Count Chocula. And let me apologize for bashing him for having plastic surgery done. I understand now, and hope to pick his brain and find out more dirt on the people that bring you a balanced breakfast. Until next time!