St. Ember Brings Home the Diatomaceous Funk!

BEHOLD! (again)

It's all over for fleas! Having exhausted all earthly methods of pest control, St. Ember turns to the Wrath of God to smite the unwanted parasitic denizens of the Back Yard. Armed with the hypnotically oscillating Razorstorm Angel Censer, he processes forth, delivering the Litany of Doom and Dehydration to every creepy crawly. The smokey powder lands with the silence of new-fallen snow, wisping and eddying gently as it shyly adheres to grass blade and chitin exoskeleton alike. To the warm-blooded merely a gentle powder, the innumerable razor-sharps microscopic particles slowly, surely, *lovingly* grind holes in the joints of affected insects, causing them to slowly (or, in the case of 100 degree heat, quickly) dehydrate and die.

Goodbye pillbugs!
Goodbye spiders!
Goodbye ladybugs!

I'm so sorry to kill you all!
But it's worth it.
Oh *so* worth it.
For it is better that a thousand innocent insects perish
than for a single flea to go free.

Useh, Updateh, Saveh!

Amen.

Fleeing from hot female attention...

I've noticed since opening up myself I'm much more sensitive to creep-factor stuff than I used to be. I was at Elysium the other night, and I had two women in a row who were giving off strong "I'm needy and want you to rescue me and make me feel good" vibes paying attention to me in the space of about 20 minutes. ( Read more... )