Speaking of ants
I saved a dialogue I had on a DIY site I’d frequented a couple years back.
This might be entertaining;
OK, OK, there's no concrete to speak of out at the cabin.
Neither are the ants.
However, our main residence, in town, has become their main residence.
These tinier than tiny ants started out innocently, appearing in the bathroom, one or two, traversing the counter, pitonning their way up my shaving mug with their little hooked claws.....thought I could hear their tiny voices singing, HI HO HI HO, or maybe it was just a yodel (singing tiny ants, yeah right).
Days later, three or four more,.....kinda cute, little skittering folk, off to their tiny jobs, tinier children waiting at home......how sweet........SMAT SMAT SMAT SMAT!!
Weeks later they're having conventions, inviting their tiny obnoxious conventioneer friends, swarming the floors, counters, staggering around, bumping into each other, drunk on copious amounts of condensed water beads and stray granules of sugar, and over indulged on tiny bread crumb whores ovaries (spell check), barging into bedrooms unannounced, and even the kitchen. I even saw one carrying his apparently sloshed compadre back to his (our) room. Nervy little revelers.
One day at the office I was taking a census of my nose hairs in the men's lavatory mirror when I noticed a tiny backpacker wending his way thru my beard thicket.....
Later that day, as I doodled on a pad at a less than titillating scheduling meeting, a tiny six legged critter skittered off my shirt sleeve and onto the conference table...Whap!
This happened several times throughout the meeting.
Associates were beginning to think I had some kind of Tourette.
It dawned on me that we may have a problem.
We could very well have ants in our pants!
That night we headed to Home Dopey.
The pesticide expert, a real font of information (I believe his name tag read Wiki Pederson) said we have 'Concrete ants', and directed us to several poisons, claiming a boric acid based compound was the best. We picked three types of applications. Wiki told us to quit killing them on sight, so they will carry the poison back to the Queen, and 'kill the b****'.
OK, maybe he didn't say that verbatim, but that's what I could've heard.
So, armed with anti-conventioneer compounds, we strategically laid out the poisons.
The revelers sobered up, skirting around the supposedly attractant Queen Killers, telling others.
We decided on another tack.
Meticulously air lifting their itty torsos with tweezers, we soaked their flailing feet, thinking surely its Death to the Queen this time.
It's been months now.
As I type, I can see an out of focus tiny version of Karl Wallenda traversing the upper rim of my reading glasses........
Little help here!!
Also, be aware that toothpaste, mouthwash, and some soaps contain sugar, which will attract them in your bathroom.
That would explain the foam around their little mouths.........thought they were rabid
To the perimeter!!
Gonna soak a one foot swath around the exterior of the house, and /or set out aunt Eunice's fruit cake (circa 1987) laced with Diatomaceous earth (of which I think it's mostly composed of anyway)............
I thought about maybe replacing our vacuum with a pet Aardvark.
It'd probably be more expensive than an exterminator, but I could rent it out...'course I'd have to have a ready supply of tiny friends to perpetuate business.....
They don't bark (I think), and probably are not much in the leg humping dept.......
Had a dog with a propensity to park his wet nose in peoples crotches...most times from behind.
The housekeeper developed a penchant of guarding her hind end with her hand whenever she bent over.
It was quite entertaining watching Stormy’s ears perk up, eyes fixed on target, loping slowly across the room with the nose of a heat seeking missile.
Folks can make the funniest noises sometimes.
Now if a pet aardy had that same compulsion, well life would be entertaining at the least.
Visitor frequency might drop off a tad though.
So it’s pretty much win win.
One month later;
OK, they seem to be retreating.
I surrounded the exterior of the house with liquid, granuals, and powders.
My lady poisoned our interior.
Seems to be working.
Now, if I can just get rid of these itchy skin blotches, and my taste buds come back, I think we are going to win this battle..............
If not, what's a good name for a pet Aardvark?
I gotta say, those exoskeletal critters are tough.
The multi pronged military tactic of surrounding the perimeter and snaring their trails on the interior seem to be most effective.
If they return enmasse, then I plan on joining the colony myself, and maybe secure an audience with her majesty, offering a peace offering cupcake of Diatomaceous earth with sugar and borax icing.........BRRUUUHOOOHAHAHA
However, I would have to really develop the tiny bit of human pheromonal activity under my arm pits in order to excrete (talk) my way past the drones and soldiers.
Or, in regard to a more enterprising attack, there are chocolate covered ant recipes:
100 Black Ants (avoid red ants, too spicy)
1 vanilla bean split and seeds scraped out
2 Egg Yolks
1 Tbsp. Sugar
1 tsp. Butter, melted
12 oz. Bittersweet Chocolate
Bon Appétit my tiny darlings
M0rd3kaI wrote:Gary...I sometimes worry about you... (although it's not this time, I just wanted to get that out there)
Rick69 wrote:Holy poop, Gavin... Sometimes you scare me...
axe11154 wrote:you sick old man
Hawamleh wrote:When Gary goes all south, you better not even try to comprehend what he's saying.