If you happen to live in the city of Orange and see a fat, freckled redhead galloping down the street barefoot, boobies flopping in the wind, and she's screaming like she hasn't been on her meds for a few months, that's probably me.
Because as I was minding my business, tooling away on the computer, I glanced over and saw this on my kitchen wall.
Freaking sonofabitching ninja cricket.
Bastard can have the kitchen. I'll blog from the front porch.
You just wait another six hours until Babe wakes up...then your nasty cricket ass is grass, shithead.