As mentioned in a past blog, I worked in pest control. Although it was exciting and all that jazz, it has completely fucked with my way of thinking about so much shit.
Let me tell you through pictures.
1) A nice hotel room.
Yup. You see a beautiful pristine bedroom, I see a bed bug invested hell hole. In fact, the big one on the bed is probably sleazy.
Dirty dirty bed bugs. They only want to cuddle so they can suck your blood. And then poop along the seams of the bed.
I’m fairly confident most people that work in pest control have this fear. But most pest control people aren’t me. I’m fairly confident the bed bugs and the DDM are hanging out together, plotting stuff, leg eatings, soul eatings, all sorts of bad things.
“Oh Karin, this is a good thing! You are preventing the spread of bed bugs.”
Oh really? REALLY? Try being the person stuck with me in the hotel!
If someone suggests a restaurant to go to, I must investigate… and holy sweet zombie hell, if there is ANY kind of report …
So no, I’m not eating there. EVER. Or any restaurant touching it. They may have contracted the mouse poop salad cooties that this restaurant may or may not have had five years ago.
I signed some kind of non disclosure agreement where I can’t say WHAT restaurants are mouse poop salad serving hell-holes, but when I say I don’t want to go somewhere, FUCKING TRUST ME! Unless I hate you, and recommend a place. Then please, go. Asshat.