Apparently, the Army is not overly enthused about the prospect of pouring gasoline down drains in the barracks and lighting it. Consequently, my request was denied and the person at Vector Control suggested that there are a number of professionals available to whom I can speak, but not at a glorified exterminator’s office. I told them that I just did speak to someone and they are already trying to pawn me off on another department rather than let me deal with the problem.
My wife said I should explain….
Koreans seem to be quite fond of eating anything that lives in bodies of water. Seriously. They are just like Cajuns except they don’t live in Louisiana and most of them speak better English than Cajuns. And they have more teeth.
See what I’m talking about? I don’t even know what this thing is, but you can get them at certain restaurants. You’ll see them there, floating in little net bags in the aquariums from which you select your meal. I’m not sure why they are in baggies. I mean look at them. Unless you are suffering from a severe palsy, they probably can’t get away from you. If you did have a severe palsy, you probably shouldn’t handle the danged things anyway. That would just seem obscene somehow. The westerners I know who have been exposed to these call them penis fish, citing that they resemble a schlong. You’ve heard the term “it goes without saying”? I don’t think this is ever true. I like to say whatever pops to mind. So it needs to be said that if your tackle box contains anything resembling a sea schmeckel, you should seek immediate medical attention.
You might not be able to tell, but I am a little disturbed right now. Not because of phallic foods though. My wife finds my tendency to make light of everything to be an irritating character trait. It’s a coping mechanism, but the problem I face is in fact quite dire. So I guess I should get to the point.
As things stand, my quarry is either wandering about my room waiting to do me harm, or it is skulking about the shower drain. The former isn’t as worrisome, though I haven’t gone barefoot since the discovery and I have bleached the floors at least six time and rewashed linens as well as all clothes several times. The latter bothers me greatly as I may have loosed this vile thing on the world, so I dumped bleach down the drain in the hopes that it travels faster than microscopic monsters. It makes me feel a certain kinship to Sisyphus. I toil against bureaucracy and the decree of my mother, who I am sure rules the underworld, only to have my efforts be in vain.
My wife says I should stop explaining quite so much.
I may have inadvertently exposed the entire northern part of South Korea to small pox. I’m pretty sure it is due to my nature as Nergala’s son. If you are a first time reader of this blog, my Mad Cow Blog (July archives) may offer clarification on that last statement. Anyway, the point to all this is that I lost my small pox scab. It was supposed to go into the little biohazard baggie of small pox Band-Aids kept under my bathroom sink so that when the process was complete I could turn it in for incineration. The bag of doom, not the sink.
So as I was saying at the beginning, I reported the problem and proposed a solution based on a time honored solution to pathogen eradication. One can only hope that copious quantities of sodium hypochlorite will suffice instead.
Tally whacker Trout: http://maioka-fc.info/fishing_dictionary/yumushi
Sisyphus’ Labors: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/530861874801718890/