Don't let Baygons be Baygons.

Yep, I'm on a creative spurt at the moment - got to post while I'm near an Internet-enabled computer, you understand - so let me just write my trivialities for the third day in a row.

Today's gripe (I'm a moaner, aren't I? Never have anything nice to say) has to do with the vulgar disrespect towards our fellow animals on the planet, blatantly displayed by our current (human) house guest last night.

I have this friendly rain spider (Burt) who lives in my room, who has made one ceiling corner his home. Burt's an accommodating guest - he never ventures too near my bed, knowing I might get squeamish and demand he vacate the premises asap. Occasionally he makes a short trip to the bathroom, enjoying the change of scenery. Again, he occupies the corner furthest from the shower, politely respecting my nude privacy during my daily hygiene routine. This relationship has been going on quite a while - Burt's been room-sitting for me while I was in CT, always glad to see me every weekend I came home to visit.

So, last night, I stumble in weary from work, look up at my corner to greet Burt, and he's not there. Hmmm, he's doing the bathroom vacation, I reasoned. I thought no more on the subject until I went to the bathroom, where a large can of Baygon stood gloating on the basin counter. That's funny, I thought, there aren't any mosquitos/ants around at this time of the year. And then, a panicked thought crossed my mind - where was Burt? "Burt!" I called, frantically searching all bathroom corners, behind the toilet, in the cupboards, the wall just outside the window - but you intelligent readers will already have gathered what had happened. The fucking guest (whose bedroom is close to mine, and hence usurps my bathroom) fucking murdered my fucking friend. And fucking wasn't around to get a fucking lecture on some fucking respect for life. It's fucked up, man.

Good-bye, Burt, I will miss you dearly. No other spidey can ever replace what we had.