Ant Farm: Requiem

By

Rex tremendae majestatus
qui salvandos salvas gratis
salve me, fons pietatis
The ants scurry no longer. All is silent in antville today. No frenetic activity, no hill being built, no tunnels being excavated.
Ingemisco tanquam reus,
Culpa rubet vultus meus
The ants were fading. Was I feeding too much? Watering too little? I don’t know. The sand was as dry and arid as my soul when I got in. Their last bit of food was molded over. Had I created an environment so unworthy of the adaptable ant? Most ants had been buried. One ant died, alone and frightened of this holocaust, in one of the transport tubes.
Oro supplex et acclinis,
Cor contritum quasi cinis
I will order more ants and I will love those ants and I will learn from my mistakes. I will succeed!
Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine;
et lux perpetua luceat eis.
Goodbye Lionel Ritchie Fans
Goodbye lovers of granola
Goodbye CO2 reactors
Goodbye Antstronaut
Goodbye my little ants

Wasted Time

By

At my last job I had Microsoft Outlook for my email and day planner. It came loaded with all kinds of nifty functions and many of them were useless. My favorite useless feature had to do with synching Outlook with your special Timex watch.
I don’t wear watches because they get sweaty and smell and I tend to break shit and frankly I have enough problems trying to keep my pants in order; I don’t need to worry about a watch.
One would think that you need some sort of special equipment to synch your watch up with your computer, but that just isn’t the case with Outlook and your special Timex watch. Apparently you just need to hold it to the screen and it does the work for you. I decided to see what would happen.
The set up was easy enough. It asked what info I wanted to transfer and I picked all of it because one can’t be too choosy when synching a watch that doesn’t exist. I hit start.
My screen turned black
Seven white lines appeared
A flash
Suddenly the lines flicker and flash, and vibrate and dance to a beat all their own. It was mesmerizing. It was over too soon. I was thrilled and disappointed all at once. Then it asked me if it was successful. It seemed successful and yet I felt empty, so I hit NO.
It did it again.
I made it run over and over again. It looked like my computer was important and busy. I would scowl as people walked by. I HAD FOUND MY DIVERSION.

Pee dance

By

I have an issue that I think other women have but I am pretty sure that men don’t have. Sometimes I wait too long to pee. Maybe I am in the car, or preventing a dam from bursting, or just having too much smug fun in getting all the questions right on “The Joker’s Wild”… either way, I wait too long to pee. But waiting too long to pee isn’t my problem ( I mean, it is a problem, but not the one I am telling you about).
When you have to pee badly, you do the pee dance in an effort to shift your weight away from your bladder. Walking while clenching your ass is both highly attractive to people with drug induced tremors and an effective way to keep you from pissing yourself. I employ this method a lot, but as I reach the toilet I have to stop to undo my pants. I have to find the right position to stand in to get my pants down usually knees bent, ass thrust and clenched (my ass has far too much control over my bladder, if you ask me). My pants are unzipped and the problem presents itself.
Here I am standing in front of my toilet desperately needing to eliminate but I can’t because the moment I let my bent-knee/clenched ass position go I will lose all control over my bladder and empty all over the floor. This is how one pisses themselves while staring at the toilet.

Ant Farm: Day 10

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The 3 D’s were the tone of the day: Death, Discouragement and Depression. Ants die, it is natural. If my many hours watching Discovery Channel have taught me anything, it is that ants die. I knew this and yet I got the ant farm anyway. Now I sit here watching my good friends die as fast as cows in England. Their dead bodies are mocking my existense: “We’re dead and you’re alive. But are you really alive sitting in front of that computer all day???” I couldn’t take it anymore, but luckily there was a ray of light. This beautiful ray of light came in the form of Ron the Printshop Guy.
Ron the Printshop Guy is a pleasant fellow who runs the printshop. He wears a goatee and enjoys it when his tamales have a properly balanced flavor. He has a girlfriend and his girlfriend’s cat has feet issues.
Ron came to me asking for a paper plate, but what he gave me in return was so much more valuable than 6 inches of durable, glossy paper. He was checking out what I had deemed the Ant Graveyard and we were discussing the excessive number of dead ones. I pointed out that they were slow and sluggish because of the cold. Then I showed him my carbon dioxide trick and many of them jumped up and ran around as expected. Special Angel Ron suggested that I blow into the farms to enliven those ants as well. Many of those ants I had assumed were dead as I hadn’t seen much activity from them in a long time. Like magic, the ants came to life and scurried about in fear and anger, looking for the heavy breathing intruder.
My spirits are lifted, joy is creeping back into my life and I feel a renewed vigor for my ants. Thank you, Ron.
Do ants like Peanut Butter Chocolate Chunk Chewy Ganola Bars??? Oh, yes they do. They like them a whole lot! Today was feeding day and as I was riding high on my elation caused by their new found vigor and I decided to give them a treat. Basically, I taught them this:
If you work hard and build a great system of tunnels you get a blend of protein, seeds, grains, vitamins and minerals that are good for ants, but if you run for my amusement you get sweet, sweet candy.
I quickly tossed a small piece in there and instantly it was covered in a grinding, seething mass of ants desperate for the sweet, chewy, wholesome granola and soy lecithin. Maybe later I will see if they like sour gummi caterpillars or maybe they would enjoy Marie Callendars Meat Lasagna, cuz I know I do.
Sorry about the sporadic nature of the Ant Log, been busy at work and my ant joy had dissipated with the perceived death of the colony. I make no promises to you, but I will try harder.