The Ghetto Fabulous Beast Zoo. On My Porch.

Dear J Waves:

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I’m sorry, but do you see this? Do you see this ant? This decapitated ant? Yeah. okay.

Now. Imagine forty of them, with heads and everything, not a one disembodied, all living, breathing, terrorizing, swarming all over my front porch. And you shut up. Forty is a lot when the ants are the size of pez dispensers. Or at least they show that sort of growth potential. Leave me alone.

Okay. So maybe you’re unacquainted with my old homicidal roommate, the one who, days after he moved in, was revealed by police-cops as being a machete-wielding maniac, and upon receipt of said information, we kicked him out? Well, this is what he accomplished during his brief stay at Castle Gayskull, our beloved home:

See, he had a habit of catching small beasts in the woods and bringing them to a glass aquarium on our front porch. It was always the same aquarium, but I knew when the beast changed because the scenery inside the tank changed. He tried to recreate their home environments. It was nice. But, you know. leave them in woods, huh? I dunno. Maybe he just wanted pets.

The first week we lived here, he brought home a little spider from the construction site where he worked. I use “little” in a relative sense, because the spider WAS little. Yeah. Little compared to a jumbo jet.

Seriously, this spider was as big as my fist. It had fangs. Don’t believe me? Fine.

Here’s what I’m pretty sure it looked like:

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Okay. The first one, of the FANGS, You need to elongate those fangs by three inches at least. The second shows you how big this thing really was. The spider is being photographed next to a full-size four-door sedan. You cannot see the four-door sedan because the spider’s right hind leg is COVERING IT UP.

The third picture? Well, that’s what appears when you search for “wolf spider” in Google images. You like that, huh? Me too.

The spider was kept in a tiny plastic cage next to Homicidal Roommate’s machete in the top of his closet, where it awaited transfer to the huge aquarium. There was a stick and live, terrified cricket in the plastic cage, and a very depressed Killing Spider named Betty. I felt bad for it, and I wanted to let it go, but Jesus. It would have eaten my foot. It promptly died, much to the dismay of my Homicidal Roommate. He actually had a funeral for Betty. Betty. Betty.

Next came the lizards. They were brown lizards. When I noticed them, there were six lizards in the tank. The next day, there were four. The next, there was one lizard. I asked Homicidal Roommate if the lizards were dying. He said no. I asked if he was letting them go. He said no. I only had one viable conclusion.

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The lizards were EATING each other.

I know it. I just know it. These were not ordinary lizards. They were spiky, fat, cannibal lizards. I am not afraid of lizards. But I don’t trust these ones, these Killing Lizards. So I put a citronella candle on top of the cage to weigh down the lid. You know, the kind that come in the silver bucket.

So I came home the next day, and these ants. They were all over the place. They were trying to get into the tank. They wanted the Killing Lizards. Even though these ants were almost as big as the tank, they could not pry the lid open, thanks to my citronella system. So check out what they do next.

They set up shop in the candle.

There was a colony of Killing Ants in the candle. Now, I knew citronella was supposed to ward off mosquitos with the poison fumes it emits, but this candle chemical was like drugs for these Killing Ants. They spent all day in the candle, high as kites. I thought they were dying in there, but no. I kicked the candle bucket and they all got pissed, like I took away their cheetos.

These ants then invaded the house on a Drug Habit Rotation. When eight or ten of them finished getting high on citronella, they switched places with eight or ten eager, sober ants. They developed a system. The ones who left the candle barricaded the front door, and when you opened the door, they’d run inside and get lost in the three-inch thick green shag carpeting that covers the living room.

Shut up, again. I didn’t choose the carpet. I’m renting, okay? And plus, I like it.

Okay, now I have to cut this story short because I have to go email this one dude on Craigslist who is selling two ball pythons for $50, with all the crap included that you need to take care of them and breed them. I want those.

Talk to you soon,



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Filed under humor, j waves, life, random

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