I hate you guys. I really do.

If a genie appeared in front of me and granted me one wish, it would be to rid the world of you. I bet there’d be universal rejoicing and maybe a little more peace in the world after everyone on the planet got a bed bug free night of sleep. I might even get a Nobel peace prize.

A pox on your house, bed bugs! A poxy pox!

If there’s a Hell for insects, I hope yours is the innermost and filled with flames and the sound of bed bugs popping and and maybe the shrill screams of bed bugs getting all warm and toasty in their fiery doom.

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!

I am both grossed out and horrified by the thought of being a rare filet mignon in your nightly parasitical feasts. Me all alone and helpless while you crept and crawled all over me and then filled yourselves to bursting with my sweet sweet blood.

I am on the top of the food chain, damnit!

You’re horrible and horrid and there’s no redeeming qualities about you.

I’d been sick from your poisons for months and thought there was something organically wrong with me. I was getting lumps and bumps and itchy rashes all over my upper body and never connected it with bed bugs. I thought I’d been exposed to an allergen (I had, bed bug saliva, ewwwwww!) and I had a bed case of hives as a result. Going to my doctor didn’t do anything productive – all I got was Prednisone and an appointment with an allergist. So I took antihistamines and took my course of Prednisone and ate and cried and felt awful and drugged and loaded and still had the lumps and rashes.

And then my husband took my bed apart last week and found of nest of bed bugs right at the head of the mattress, only inches from my head. I’d had my head right in the center of Ground Zero and the bed bugs had been climbing and feasting on my face… Oh Jesus tap dancing Christ, that’s fuckin’ gross, excuse me but I get squiked-out every time I think of it. 

 

Being as we’re the working poor in this state of the Union, we just can’t come up with a grand or two for professional help on our war of the bed bugs. So we took the bed apart, got rid of the headboard and did our level best to rid the mattress and box springs of our unwanted pests and then encased both in two mattress covers, available at any fine department store near you.

To further our war we vacuumed and cleaned the area around the bed and then liberally sprinkled the war zone with Diatomaceous earth, which can be found almost anywhere – make sure to use the food grade, not the pool grade or you’ll get as dead as the bed bugs. Boric acid is a good bed bug killer too.

I had six pest-free nights until last Sunday morning around 05:30 I woke with the usual burning and found six bites on my inner left elbow. Six! That bastard must have had cobwebs over its asshole from being so hungry. I guess the six bites made up for those six bite free nights I’d had.

Did I tell you I’ve got something like PTSD over this? When I’m in my bed I hunch up in a ball and wrap the blanket around me like fluffy amour. I have this need to leave a light on. I feel phantom bugs crawling all over me sometimes. My skin is delicate and needs so much TLC.

My bed was too close to the wall and I think Rambug rappelled his way up the bedclothes and then sank his pointy beak in to my tender flesh. So make sure that there’s some space ‘tween your bed and the walls – the bed bugs can’t fly, thank all the gods for that, but they have no problems crawling and can do so with scary speed, like a cockroach the size of an apple seed on crack. And there shouldn’t be anything under the bed either. And get some plastic bowls and have the bed’s feet resting in them and then sprinkle Diatomaceous earth liberally in the bowls and on the bed’s feet and that makes another barrier between you and the hungry bed bugs. 

My husband brought the bed bugs home, damn him. 

So if there’s an enticing piece of furniture by the side of the road, leave it there because It Was Thrown Out For A Reason! Either someone had Ebola and died on it or there’s something extra special lurking inside, a plaid and pleated Trojan horse that only looks like a couch or a bed or a foot stool, you get the idea. While you and your buddies are getting the prize in to the back of your truck the last owners are peeking out their windows and laughing their asses off at you. And when you find out that the joke is on you it will be too late to turn back the hands of time and just drive on by that tempting piece of curb furniture. Just say no!

I have not won the war on the bed bugs, I expect that there’ll be firefights and skirmishes and midnight raids in the never ending battle on the bed bugs from Hell. But it’s with my shield or on it, no fricken’ bug can make me cry or bleed forever.

I’ll hunt you down and poison you and make your lives a living Hell like you made mine for nearly six months, you bastards!

Bed bugs = dead bugs, ooorah!