mi cucaracha, mi amor

Today an insect engineer sprayed our building for roaches. It wasn't necessarily to kill live roaches, but to sterilize them and prevent future roaches. That's fine and all, but I just saw a baby roach on my desk just a little while ago and I thought to myself, "Little does he know he will never have kids. Imagine the emptiness he will be sure to feel in his life." [My happy pills prohibit me from shedding tears.]

Cool, little-known factoid: When roaches die they do headplants. Wouldn't it be cool if all humans died that way and not just the ones who jump and land head first?