There's no height to which I won't climb, nor depth to which I won't stoop, dear reader, to bring you whatever happens to take the fancy of my sick, twisted mind at any particular moment of any given day.
Behold, a dead cockroach, conveniently placed beside a set of keys in order that the viewer may better be able to get a sense of scale:
You won't find this in The Louvre, I guarantee you...
You call that a cockroach? That's a cocktail-sausage roach.
ReplyDeleteGlenn,
ReplyDeleteWell, I could have left the keys out and lied about how big it was... I'm honest, if nothing! Besides, isn't it enough that it's disgusting?
Yuck! It is as big as Mexico City's roaches!
ReplyDeleteWhen I saw the photo, I first thought you had actually found it next to your keys, good relief to read you didn't.
They are top on my hated-things list. Whenever we come across, it's me or them! (war cry)
Usual Stuff,
ReplyDeleteHand to hand combat, to the death. It's the only way...
oooh. Can't look!
ReplyDeleteVerilion,
ReplyDeleteDon't be such a chicken!