Shayne Lechelt

Another ant battle today. Not as big as the last. I’m not going to turn it into a long post this time though. I feel like I did well with the first one, and sequels are never as good. If I were guaranteed a third time for the trilogy, then I might go for it, because trilogies are sweet. But I don’t want them to come a third time. It may be enjoyable for you to hear about it, but it is nothing short of nightmarish for me.

You may recall a while back I had a post about a battle I had with cockroaches. In this battle, I killed one of the cockroaches and sent him to a watery grave. The other cockroach escaped, but not without sustaining major injuries. I came to believe that that second cockroach went to tell his friends that I was not to be messed with. I assumed I had conquered this foe and he would make sure that none shall attempt to go to battle against me again.

I was wrong.

No, instead this foul menace hired a different group of insects to try their luck in battle against me. The cockroach hired a group that could come in tens, hundreds, possibly thousands. A group that would overwhelm me with sheer volume.

That’s right. I have ants.

At first it wasn’t so bad. One or two would show up. I easily took care of them, smashing them or sending them down the sink. The next day a couple more might come. I would repeat my strategy and delight in their misery as they spiraled down the drain. I told myself I would talk to the apartment office soon to take care of these little guys. I put it off, because it didn’t seem to be a big deal.

I was wrong.

As it turns out, these few ants were simply scouts, searching the area. They were planning. Planning for something big. In my foolishness, I just assumed that it was a minor problem, posing no threat.

Last night, it came that time where I needed to use the toilet. It happens. I’m only human. Don’t judge me, sometimes I have to poop. You do too, unless you’re a girl. But I digress.

I took care of my business. I went to wash my hands, because that is very important.

I found the sink crawling with ants! Tons of them, all over the place. I swear, they were shouting battle cries at me: “Die, human!” “Tora, Tora, Tora!” “Fuck you, Shayne. Fuck you.”

I let out a battle cry of my own: a high-pitched squeal. Now, this may sound like a girlish scream to you, but I assure you it was a strong battle cry. Very manly.

I knew that I had no weapons nearby that were fit to destroy my enemy. I called upon Brian to come assess the mess. He knew precisely what to do. He went to the kitchen to fetch the secret weapon: Bleach.

We soaked those little bastards in that bleach, watching as they suffered. I laughed in their faces as they drowned, screaming out in pain and anguish. We then flushed some of the corpses down the sink and others we wiped up with a paper towel and flushed down the toilet. We won yet another battle. You’ll need more than mere ants to conquer me, cockroaches!

In the passing hours since that fateful battle, there have been some stragglers left behind. A few ants now and then come scurrying up expecting to take me down. I quickly take them out.

This morning I spoke to the apartment office about this problem. On Tuesday, the threat will be completely eliminated. You will not set another foot in my home. This is not over, you little bastards.

This is not over.

Oh, by the way, I did end up washing my hands.

I guess I haven’t updated in a while huh? Pretty boring website, eh? I seem to have writer’s block when it comes to music/film/life lately. But I can try and come up with some things to talk about from now on so this site isn’t a waste of time and money.

So, it’s not Roomatez anymore. It’s Roomate$. And it will be awesome, I swear to you. If you like tight beats and mad rhymes, this shit will be off the shmackalacka.

Umm, since we last spoke I took a trip to Washington to visit my sister and grandparents and cousin. It was a lot of fun. I love Washington. It has a lot of trees, which I don’t know if you knew this, but trees are pretty cool. Especially in large quantities. All foresty ‘n’ shit. Naw mean? Oh and the mountains that the trees sit on. Hot damn! So while I was there I stayed at my sister’s house which is pretty nice. They don’t have air conditioning, so it was actually hot inside the house, but very nice outside. Wacky, huh? IT’S THE OPPOSITE HERE! She showed me her campus which is tiny compared to UT, but y’know. It’s UT, so duh. We went to my grandparents’ house on Whidbey Island which is always lovely. They have a beautiful view. We stayed there a couple a days and hung out. Then we were picked up by Chelsea’s (that’s my sister’s name, for anyone who didn’t know. There are what, 2 people who read this?) boyfriend David. He’s a [not*] neat guy. We went to Pike’s Place market where we met my cousin Sarah. I bought a wind up hopping penis. I was going to give it to Colin when I got home, but he didn’t come back to town so I didn’t get a chance. After a couple more days Chelsea and I flew back home.

Two days pass and my family helps me move down to Austin again. But we just moved my stuff down and then I went and stayed home for a week and a half. I slept on the floor and the couch. Comfy.

Now I’m back in Austin and going to college. I really like my apartment, except for the occassional cockroach. Apparently I turn into a big pussy around cockroaches. Spiders and stuff are okay, but cockroaches are G-R-O-S-S. They don’t die. I hit them and hit them and hit them and they don’t die. I wish I would’ve filmed myself trying to kill these. I could’ve put that on this site and actually had something entertaining on here. It’s pretty ridiculous. I was on the phone with my dad at the time and I was screaming while hitting the little bastard many times with my shoe. I thought it was dead. Only apparently I didn’t kill it enough. I tried picking it up with a dust pan and it started wiggling and I started screaming again. I got it’s wiggly ass in the pan and flushed it down the toilet. Then the next one came the next day and it was up on the wall, so I hit it and then had to run away because it fell off the wall. That bitch got away. But it was hurtin’. He snuck in some hole somewhere. I think he went and told his friends not to mess with me, because none have come lately. Or maybe they’re planning some big attack. If I don’t post a lot anymore, it’s the roaches. They got me.

Does this make up for my lack of posting?

Shayney-Shayne

*edited