One day, while I was going about my morning routine, I spied, my little bitty eye this fine fellow hanging out on the curtain in the room where I keep my computer.
Naturally, I was taken a little aback by this given the fact that the room where I keep my computer is my bedroom and the curtain that he was camped out on was the curtain by the bed that I share with my wife. As a general rule, I don’t fuck with bugs. It’s not some convoluted religious philosophy, I just generally accept the fact that everything on this planet has it’s job. Everything. If the bug is keeping me from getting something done, or else is just generally being a nuisance, well, that’s a different story.
Given that I have never seen a bug like this before, I was filled with a mild consternation. And given that we are living in a digital age, I posted that shit to the internet.
Less than five minutes go by and one of my Facebook friends informs me that this is indeed a Katydid, it’s edible, and that I should establish dominance by eating it.
Alas, this was a minute too late!
“… it’s not really edible anymore. After having a long conversation with it, I learned that: 1. It’s voice is deeper than Barry White’s 2. It hailed from the Greater Ohio Katydid Orphanage 3. It truly enjoyed watching my wife sleep and it was plotting my untimely demise by attacking me repeatedly (after my wife had gone to bed, forcing me to read by the use of my book-light). I must admit that it was relatively successful because I had thought that it was the grasshopper that had gotten trapped in our room a few days ago. Yes, this is not the first time that an exotic bug has gotten trapped in our room. (Seriously, I don’t know how these little shits do it: Our house is two-stories and our bedroom is on the second floor!). After concluding my conversation with Mr. Did, He found out exactly how heavy my dictionary was. Repeatedly. The lesson? I value the weight of words.”