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June 4, 2003, Wednesday, 2218
Pi steps over towards Monk and bends down to try to see what he is staring so hard at, "Oh, I see! That is a pretty nasty looking spider." One of those grey speckled spiders is caught between the closed window and the screen, crawling around.
Monk's forehead is still furrowed in concentration, "I cannot remember the last time I saw one that big. I suppose that this is the downside to this rain. The last time I was out with Little Bear, I was also bothered for the first time this season with those pests, those mosquitos or something close enough to them. I'm going to have to start putting on sweat pants when I go out in the dusk and twilight hours -- what a pain in the ass!" He works up his resoultion and gets up with a purpose.
Pi asks, "What are you doing?"
Monk takes a deep breath, "Since I've finished my dinner, I'm going to try to kill it."
Daimon hears this and laughs, "Yeah! Sometimes a man has to be a man. Be careful out there, Monk. It's a pretty big spider. You're going without any real back-up."
Monk ignores this, dons his t-shirt, and heads out with the Ortho Home Defense bug spray. Little Bear apparently wants to come out, too. Monk first shoos him away, but ultimately gives in before those longing eyes. Outside, Monk starts dousing the spider. It doesn't look like it's working, and he checks the bottle to see that it does contain a picture of a spider among the pictures of other creepy-crawlies. Monk keeps pouring it on with murder in his heart. Eventually, after spraying perhaps about a half-cup of the supposed poison onto this creepazoid freak of nature, it stops moving.
Back inside, Monk warily opens the window with a wad of paper towels in hands to make a fast grab and crush. He didn't have to worry. Pi says, "So, I guess that spray works."
Monk nods, "Yeah, guess so. Not particularly fast, though. But then I guess there is something to be said for a slow and tortuous kill against such vile foes."
Daimon smirks, "Keep this up, tough guy, and you're going to become a full-blooded Republican before long. It's just a matter of knowing your priorities and being willing to do something about them."
Monk sneers, "Like Andrew Jackson and the Indians?"
Daimon says, "Yes, like Andrew Jackson and the Indians. It's a tough world, Monk! You should understand that by now."
Monk turns away, "I think I do."
Daimon bemoans, "I don't think you do, not really."
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October 9, 2011
See what I mean about the writing? And it also feels like I was smarter, at least as a philosophical matter, about the nature of the world. And now here I am thinking about heaven. Remember, I was feeling a little devastated after that drama with Crysling and Gnome, and it seems as though I were really finding myself, making myself stronger.
Monk's forehead is still furrowed in concentration, "I cannot remember the last time I saw one that big. I suppose that this is the downside to this rain. The last time I was out with Little Bear, I was also bothered for the first time this season with those pests, those mosquitos or something close enough to them. I'm going to have to start putting on sweat pants when I go out in the dusk and twilight hours -- what a pain in the ass!" He works up his resoultion and gets up with a purpose.
Pi asks, "What are you doing?"
Monk takes a deep breath, "Since I've finished my dinner, I'm going to try to kill it."
Daimon hears this and laughs, "Yeah! Sometimes a man has to be a man. Be careful out there, Monk. It's a pretty big spider. You're going without any real back-up."
Monk ignores this, dons his t-shirt, and heads out with the Ortho Home Defense bug spray. Little Bear apparently wants to come out, too. Monk first shoos him away, but ultimately gives in before those longing eyes. Outside, Monk starts dousing the spider. It doesn't look like it's working, and he checks the bottle to see that it does contain a picture of a spider among the pictures of other creepy-crawlies. Monk keeps pouring it on with murder in his heart. Eventually, after spraying perhaps about a half-cup of the supposed poison onto this creepazoid freak of nature, it stops moving.
Back inside, Monk warily opens the window with a wad of paper towels in hands to make a fast grab and crush. He didn't have to worry. Pi says, "So, I guess that spray works."
Monk nods, "Yeah, guess so. Not particularly fast, though. But then I guess there is something to be said for a slow and tortuous kill against such vile foes."
Daimon smirks, "Keep this up, tough guy, and you're going to become a full-blooded Republican before long. It's just a matter of knowing your priorities and being willing to do something about them."
Monk sneers, "Like Andrew Jackson and the Indians?"
Daimon says, "Yes, like Andrew Jackson and the Indians. It's a tough world, Monk! You should understand that by now."
Monk turns away, "I think I do."
Daimon bemoans, "I don't think you do, not really."
==============
October 9, 2011
See what I mean about the writing? And it also feels like I was smarter, at least as a philosophical matter, about the nature of the world. And now here I am thinking about heaven. Remember, I was feeling a little devastated after that drama with Crysling and Gnome, and it seems as though I were really finding myself, making myself stronger.