Tonight, as I was thoroughly enjoying the documentary "Man On Wire" (rent it ASAP), I hear a noise...I turn to look...I see my little doggy batting at something..."Paisley, what have you got there?... AAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH"....
HE WAS PLAYING WITH A CENTIPEDE!
Oh my gosh, why today of all days did I have to be looking at pictures of parasites at work to come home to find a bug in my house that couldn't resemble a parasite more? God, I know I'm becoming a Jew, but COME ON!
Death came rather quickly to the little fella, via flip flop and screaming woman, only to be proceeded with the scoop and toss via kleenex.
I am now terrified to go to sleep, because what if a centipede is in my bed? There was one in my living room, why couldn't there be more, like possibly a swarm? Maybe a gaggle? I'm so sleepy, but I am so scared. Why, oh why did you have to come into my life little disgusting centipede?
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