We have a problem with spider crickets lurking in our basement. I've used homemade traps and the shop vac to kill them, but we've had a tentative armistice for the last few days. Right now one has somehow made its way up the stairs and is staring at me.

Crickets, you've gone too far. You've broken the truce, you've invaded my territory, you've crossed the Rubicon. It's been a DAY, people, and I don't want creepy-ass bugs creeping around my toes. My dogs—my tough looking, fifty pound pit bulls—are worthless. They are snoring right next to me. I could be mauled by this bug and they wouldn't even wake up because they're lazy selfish jerks. Dog A just kicked me to make more room for himself on the couch. They'll alert the neighborhood if a small child rides by on a bike, but heaven forbid they move themselves from the couch to eat a bug. This is the thanks I get for bringing their sorry butts home from the shelter. It's almost enough to make me switch to team cat.

image from bugguide.net