I hate crickets. No, worse, I loathe them, despise them. Why do I hate them so much? Why say it now all of a sudden? I'll tell you if you're wondering.
Around 2:32 frickin' A.M. I found out they got in my room. They frickin' went in my room. And as if invasion wasn't enough, they started freaking chirping. I could not sleep. Furious, I went to see my monkey of a brother (who was still up anyway) what the hell crickets ate, since he liked bugs and books on them. He told me something along the lines of, "Pretty much anything. Paper, plastic, clothes...posters... Not metal." I happen to like my paper, plastic, and posters in my room. And to think that they're not only invading my room and keeping me up all night. They may eat my stuff. Excuse me but, scream @*#&$&@$&#%&&#%&*! Ahem. Anyway, the bloody things kept chirping and around 5:30 I could not stand it anymore and was tired. So I went to sleep in the living room. Around 6:30 I was woken up by my parents because my dad usually wakes up in the couch I was sleeping in. Those blasted creatures gave me one hour of sleep. So now I am furious, hence my newly found passionate hatred against crickets. They are so lucky I don't have super-powers. Especially x-ray vision, levitation, and fire. I'd burn them.
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