*Magnify*
    March     ►
SMTWTFS
     
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
Archive RSS
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/912262
Rated: 18+ · Book · Experience · #1578384
You never know what you'll find - humor, ramblings, rants, randomness- it's all me!
#912262 added June 2, 2017 at 5:07pm
Restrictions: None
Death by Essential Oils - Muhahahaha
Death by Essential Oils - Muhahahaha

Wow! This is some come back to writing.com. Yesterday I was a virgin, and today I'm a murderer. . . and quite proud of it!

You know how some days you just really can't come up with something you feel passionate to write about? But then there is Divine Intervention (which is way better than most interventions, from what I've seen on late night television at least)! That is today for me.

I was opening up my laptop with no strong idea of what I was going to write, when I was hit by a lightning bolt - or more literally a tick trying to crawl under my Fit-bit!

I can not explain the extent to which I hate ticks. I mean I don't think anyone really loves them. Well, there may be a group of Tick Lover's Anonymous somewhere, maybe Kentucky. I don't know why I said Kentucky; I apologize Kentuckians. But seriously, Ticks make me scream - literally, figuratively, gutterly!

I live in the country. Not really by choice; well, maybe a little choice. It's where the man I love and married lives, so I thought - well, I suppose I should live there too. Some people (not the ones that know me well) may counter this by pointing out I was raised on a farm. But they are wrong. I was raised in a house that happened to be located on 160 acres of country farm. I was not Laura Ingalls (though I did and do love her).

Anyway, let's get back to the insectual spawns of Hell! According to the news and everyone: This is an especially bad tick year! Do you know why that is? Because THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A GOOD YEAR IF THE FREAKIN' WORD TICK IS INCLUDED! I abhor them so much, that I had this weak moment of thinking of recruiting a posse of possums because I read on Facebook that they eat ticks. But then I remembered how much I detested possums and figured they might actually form an alliance with ticks to see how quickly they could get the non-country girl out of the country. And I have blogged negatively about possums and if possums have read it, well, then I'm already on their shit list. Besides the fact, that my dog would just kill the possum and place it directly under my car door as a reminder of why the country wasn't my first choice of residence. But I love my husband. . . seriously, I do! I mean isn't facing ticks an act of evidence.

Finally, THE MURDER: So I feel it on my wrist. Mind you, I'm now convinced everything is a tick: every freckle, mole, dirt, dropped piece of chocolate. Well, this time it was a freckle with 8 legs! I had enough. This was my writing time! In the house! So I yelled, "Mother fucker, I'm finished with you!" (I think my husband was relieved a little when he realized I had a tick and wasn't directing obscenities toward him.) I had purchased Rose Geranium Oil because I read it repelled them but hadn't mixed it with the other ingredients yet. But this tick wasn't getting the mercy of a diluted poison. He was going to take it like the hell-breathing, son-of-a-bitch sadist that he was. I got a paper plate, put the living freckle on it and started the death by rose geranium oil - drop by merciless drop. He tried to scurry. I felt no remorse; in fact, I'm pretty absolutely sure, that I cackled like a mad scientist in a 1950's movie. (I do look good in black and white).

I thought about reviving him so he could go warn his friends that they better find another farmer's wife to screw with because this one is psycho in a way that can't be fixed. But then I realized I just really wanted him dead, no breathing, finished, burned, buried, with no memorial.

I think I come by this evilness toward unwanted insects naturally. My father did once drown a scorpion that stung me on the ass in mouthwash. Green listerine if I remember correctly. We did eventually get it rid of it. We aren't keep in the cellar for the good company kind of crazy. We are just country crazy. Wait! Did I just use 'we'? Well, well - maybe I am becoming a little country after all.

See ya'll later,

Audra

P.S. DON'T USE ROSE GERANIUM AROUND CATS; IT IS TOXIC TO THEM!

© Copyright 2017 audra_branson (UN: abranson at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
audra_branson has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log in to Leave Feedback
Username:
Password: <Show>
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!
All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/912262