The vilest of the vile.

Bugs. House bugs in particular. We've all had them at some point. House flies, fruit flies, ants, spiders, wood bugs, and a plethora of other nasty little critters. I'm lucky enough to live in a old, damp, plaster-based apartment complex and so any bug problem my neighbours have, I have as well. What could possibly so vile that it would warrant itself a blog post?

Meet Scutigera coleoptrata or rather The House Centipede.

This vile creature is what haunts my days and nights. These insects can grow between 1 and 2 inches in length and have 15 pairs of legs. Legs they can remove from their bodies when faced with a predator (like a sticky trap, or my shoe). Something I didn't know, but just now became educated of is that these little bastards can run up to 16 inches per second. That's fucking disgusting. They're also excellent climbers which means there's a high likelihood that one could fall on your head from the ceiling at any given moment.

The greatest ass-hatty quality of these insects is that they have a life cycle of three to seven years. Which means if you've got these fuckers in your home, they're likely moving in for the long run. Oh and did I mention they're venomous? Now, before you get your panties in a twist, their venom is used to kill their prey (house bugs), and is harmless to animals and humans, just really, really painful. I can speak from experience that yes, their bite does sting like a muther'fucker. Why? Because one bit my face (just under my eyebrow) while I was sleeping. That means the fucker was on my face. Possibly near my mouth at some point.

It's really unfortunate that they look like some H.P. Lovecraft creation because they're really quite useful in controlling your other pest populous.

But for me personally, I've got an vendetta out on these little ass clowns.

Not only did one CHARGE AT ME, but after I killed it, it's little centipede ghost haunted my car's engine. Yeah, fer'serious.

But I digress - These things are nasty, and while I had to be the bearer of bad news, if you've got'em, you're not getting rid of'em. The solution?

Always wear your best stompin' shoes in the house.