Don't let His small size fool you; I've looked into His eyes and seen pure negative hatred juice. It's boiling in there.
In all honesty the moth is more of a nuisance than a threat to my life. It's like Zsa Zsa Gabor; hiding from everyone for the most part but occasionally flying out of the abyss to get in your face. I think the reason I dislike moths so much is because they do fly in my face all the time. At least bees have the courtesy to buzz around you. Ladybugs are downright genteel. But moths, moths are trashy.
Did you know that the reason moths fly into lights is because they use the light of the moon to navigate? In a natural setting like a forest the moon would be a predictable distance away. The moth somehow determines the angle of itself with the moon to fly up and in a good manner. In our artificial world, however, the moth calculates incorrectly and ends up bursting into flames. It's a small margin of error.
Luckily I have Rocky to deal with the moth. Apart from being the cutest kitten on the face of FSM's green earth, he's a tough son-of-a-gun and is willing to kill the damn moth. He is my neighbor and periodically visits us. All he asks in return is to be pet behind the ears and to occasionally be allowed to attack my hand. Seems reasonable.
I hate bugs in my apartment, but it's so much cooler with the windows down.
I almost forgot about her. And I particularly like this picture...actually, you should just go to the gallery and look at all the pictures.
2 comments:
Moths are essentially evil. It's no coincidence that one of Godzilla's main enemies is Mothra... a giant moth. Also, moths eat wool, which is not cool.
In preparation (H) for the AP Literature test in highschool, my teacher gave us a packet in which passages from previous years' tests could be found.
One of the passages held my attention fast, and so scarred my memory that it stays with me still.
I wish I could remember the text specifically (so I could look it up online and read it again). To sum it up:
A chap is sitting at his writing desk, watching the dim light of his candle flicker in a growing pool of hot wax. A moth flits into view. He watches the moth fly too close to the flame and get stuck in the hot wax. With a small squeak and a pop, the moth is consumed by the flames, its exoskeleton hollow and upright in the wax. The carcass and the candle burn, like a double wick.
Disturbing, much?
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