Centipedes

That's right. Those hundred-legged bastards. Every once in a while, I see one scurry into my room, or across the hallway. When I see one, I am livid. I grab the closest whatever and smash it. WHEN I KILL IT, IT'S LEGS KEEP MOVING (WTF). Needless to say, I hate centipedes.

Here's how it went down last night:

"Oh, cool, I like watching the Daily Show untroubled"
(scurry scurry scurry) "Hi"
"HOLY SHIT"
"How are you doing this fine evening?"
"AGGHHH" (SMASH SMASH SMASH)
"Huh, would you look at that, my legs are still moving and I'm dead! That's so fascinating"
"OMG"

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Thought of the moment: I distrust most insects.