Bugs

In 1994 Pearl Jam wrote a song called 'Bugs'. The lyrics go as follows:

I got bugs/I got bugs in my room/Bugs in my bed/Bugs in my ears/Their eggs in my head/Bugs in my pockets/Bugs in my shoes/Bugs on my window trying to get in/They don't go nowhere/ Waiting, waiting...Bugs on my ceiling/Crowded the floor/Standing, sitting, kneeling/A few block the door/And now the questions.../Do I kill them?/Become their friend?/Do I eat them?/Raw or well done?/Do I trick them?/I don't think they're dumb/Do I join them?/Looks like that's the one.

Until today these had been but mere words to me. They have now, however, taken on a profound significance. The struggle of Eddie Vedder et al has become my struggle. But where Pearl Jam capitulated, Simon triumphed! Today I decided to taken on the various foul creatures inhabiting my apartment. Armed only with industrial strength 'Raid Flying Insect' I took down a small army of insects, at times ably assisted by my noble Belgian colleague Thomas. In fact, it was Thomas who engaged in the harshest battle of all, when he spied the most dreaded of bugs scuttling down our hallway: a cockroach. After frankly cacking his pants, he proceeded to empty literally half a canister of Raid Flying Insect onto said cockroach, ignoring my comments that the cockroach didn't really constitute a 'flying insect' and that the underside of a shoe might do the job a little more efficiently. In the end I pushed aside a visibly shaken (and I'm actually not joking) Thomas and dispatched the cockroach myself. The most unpleasant part was certainly scraping its still-twitching carcass off the floor. After a swift jolt from one of the mobile CPR machines generously scattered across this fair land, I resuscitated my Belgian squire and vowed to crush, kill, and destroy all bugs until they get the message that Apartment 64, 530 West 112th Street, New York, NY, 10025 is not to be messed with. As Dante wrote in the Inferno,

Through me you pass into the city of woe:
Through me you pass into eternal pain:
Through me among the people lost for aye.

Justice the founder of my fabric mov'd:
To rear me was the task of power divine,
Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.

Before me things create were none, save things
Eternal, and eternal I endure.
All hope abandon ye who enter here.

But don't let this put you off of a visit, I'm in the process of turning my apartment into a veritable Fort Knox of anti-bug equipment. I'm winning the war people! More soon!