Blog - True Love:

by Kevin
Sun, Mar 13, 2011

The common stinkbug has a myriad of practical uses for practical jokes. If you intend to sabotage your friend’s romantic endeavors, look no further.

To anyone who has never encountered these minuscule, malodorous vermin, consider yourself fortunate. Once they have invaded your home, try as you might, even a moment’s reprieve is an unattainable commodity. They fly clumsily about the room, taunting you with their low buzzing, and should you lash out, they bequeath upon you a most pungent wrath.

One of the vile creatures found its way into my pants pocket a couple of weekends ago. As I reached into this pocket for my cell phone, I felt something that was decidedly not very phone-like. Something burst, and slime immediately covered the tip of my index finger. As I removed my hand for inspection, I noticed an oddly familiar brown carapace stuck to the tip of my finger. Then that smell hit me: an unrelentingly powerful stench. I was in the middle of operating the sound board at church, and could not leave my post, so for the next 15 minutes, I stood at my station dry heaving and gagging during the sermon as the vicious smell assaulted my senses again and again and again.

As soon as I was able, I darted into the bathroom to wash, but it was too late. My skin had absorbed the sweet essence of the bug, much in the way the quilted quicker picker upper (Bounty!) is purported to absorb spills. No amount of hand soap could right this wrong. Upon my return home, I tried numerous solutions. A shower, concentrated grease-cutting dish soap, and laundry detergent, all to no avail. It wasn’t until I resorted to scrubbing my hands with vinegar that the smell finally diminished. Hours later, I could still detect traces of stink bug emanating from my hands, continuing to haunt me as the memory does even now.

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