There is a Big Ass Wasp in my window..the inside part..and all I keep thinking is I wish there was a man around to take care of it.

Preferably one you don't really like all that much, right?

Jilli-fonted for non-bat talk. When I was in college, one morning I tried to leave the apartment only to find a tarantula on the outside of the screen door. In Ohio. It's not like they are native. The spider was at least four inches across, black, and fuzzy. I ran back in, told my roommate, and she said, "Are you sure it's a tarantula? It's probably just a big daddy longlegged."

To which I replied, "Only if it's a big daddy longlegged, wearing a fur coat."

After she saw it, she agreed that it was a tarantula. Not wanting to touch it ourselves, we decided to ask one of our guy friends to take care of it. But we chose one of the guys who was more of a hanger-on than an actual friend. Thankfully he was willing to check it out. By the time he got there, the spider had moved on. I'm not sure if we were more thankful to not actually owe the guy, or freaked out due to having no idea where it had gone.

On the other hand, when I lived in Arizona, the first few times I killed scorpions involved a lot of screaming and spraying of toxins. After a while I got so accustomed to them I was willing to smash them with thick newspapers. I even left one particularly perfect flat scorpion on one of the walls for a while. When I mentioned it to a coworker, he said, "Sure. I do that too. If the place smells like dead scorpion, maybe the other scorpions won't want to come around anymore."

Tep, those guys are asshats.

My typical response to people like that is something along the lines of: "you breathe air, right? The same air that poor, useless, jobless people breathe? You really want to die of some easily treatable plague because the poor, useless, unemployed drunks can't afford to go to the doctor before they spread it to the rest of the city?"

It doesn't change their minds or make them reasonable, but it usually makes them shake their heads and go somewhere else instead of engaging with/annoying me further.

You should have. really tested that private coverage. But occasionally I am callous and strange. (hopefully in the service of a good cause.)

I love erika so much!

After a while I got so accustomed to them I was willing to smash them with thick newspapers.

Waterbugs won't DIE from that!

They're amazingly resilient. I've stamped on them and had them rush towards me. My terror is not for nothing.

The boyfriend used to use his army boots. Um, marine boots? He'd remove and whack with the heel -- two or three times! He said he's mastered the technique in military baracks all over the world.

Sometimes there'd be commentary "Oh, these are unusual in this part of country" ::WHACK:: "In Kuwait there are these huge bugs that sometimes when you kill them a thousand little parasites or babies come out." ::WHACK WHACK:: "You're better off leaving those guys alone" ::flushflushflush::

Waterbugs won't DIE from that!

Well, yeah, their carapaces are thicker than those of scorpions. But a military boot to the wall of the trailer I used to live in would have gone right through the paneling and probably the outside siding, too. Different weapons for different enemies. How would a hammer and an old magazine work on the waterbugs? We are talking about those nasty-ass giant roaches, right?

Thanks, Cash. and you know if that happened, Tep would turn to three big brown guys.

I find that spraying enough of anything will kill most things. When I haven't had any bug spray handy, I've killed bugs with Lysol, Clorox Clean-Up spray, and hair spray (not all at the same time). Make sure to chant, "Die, die, die," if you try this route, because I think that's part of the spell.

How would a hammer and an old magazine work on the waterbugs? We are talking about those nasty-ass giant roaches, right?

Oooh! Hammer and old magazine! Magazine for containment, hammer for death blow! You're a genius. I might be able to work with that. Excellent, Smithers!!!! ::tents fingers::

Yes, giant roaches. Did you know they FUCKING FLY?!?!? That's what prompted the sister calling hysterics. (Until the ariel assault it was plain old hand-flapping and shrieking).

I had no idea scorpions were so fragile!

The only time I have ever stepped on a roach of my own free will was the one I brushed off of Dylan's foot when he was about 6 months old. And even that wasn't so much "free will" as sheer mama-bear PROTECT THE BAYBEEEEEEE instinct. Pure lizard brain, no higher consciousness involved.

Otherwise I call DH to kill them while I hide quietly in whichever room is farthest away from the terrifying many-legged creature.