  Here in Arizona the monsoon is upon us. It hasn't even really rained here. Actually we are in desperate need of rain. Like all living things we need water to live. Unfortunately there is a mysterious cricket chirping in my bathroom. I feel bad about inhabiting a space that once belonged to the cricket, but not that bad.
I am fine if it stays in it's habitat, but trying to co-exist with a cricket, I don't think so. I was minding my own business playing a game of Tetris when this incessant chirping began. It wasn't a regular cricket. It was loud, like a mother-in-law cricket. It just wouldn't shut up. I know it was probably looking for water, but I wished it would look someplace else.
I called Michael into the room. It continued to chirp, except when the light came on. It was echoing throughout the bedroom and master bathroom. As soon as he would turn on the light. It would stop chirping. It was like a freaking Abbott and Costello routine.
Vlad has his own pest control business. Finally we decided to call him. I found out that crickets can climb. I didn't know this. Maybe the cricket was up high. Maybe he was hanging out on our plant shelf laughing at us everytime we turned on the light to find him.
He'll probably go into a cricket bar and crack jokes about the two dumbass humans he played. We filled the drains in the sink like Vlad suggested. He made fun of me. I'm not afraid but after hanging out with someone in the pest control business you learn things. Things you don't want to know. For example humans ingest several bugs per year in their sleep.
EWWWW! Also most children's ear aches are caused by bugs (mainly cockroaches) crawling into their ears and then dying. Double ewww and a yuck for good measure. I want bugs to complete the cycle of survival of the fittest, but not in my bedroom. I can't find the mysterious little fucker. Michael seems to think it is in the actual door frame.
I'm sure he looked thoroughly. I hope I can sleep tonight, otherwise all be back here writing about the fucking cricket that kept me up all night. If I do, you can bet the mysterious cricket will be a dead mofo cricket. 
