I just had the distinct pleasure of throwing water at an earwig so as to flush it down the kitchen sink.
What really made the moment special was that as it was slipping through the holes in the drain it seemingly grabbed ahold of the metal edges with it's skittery-awful little legs and clung to it like it was re-enacting a scene from Cliffhanger. As I refilled my mug with water it held on for dear life, trying to pull itself back out and it's frantic misery brought me great pleasure.
It took a couple mugs of water to finally wrench it free of the drain but I got the wiggly bastard. ENJOY YO' SWIM, BITCH!
Furthermore, I discovered a way to make killing earwigs more enjoyable (aka I don't want to huddle in a corner and moan). I pretend I'm a ninja-raptor killer and stalk around the bedroom with my hands full of kleenex. When I find an earwig (not hard to do lately) I give a little raptor-shriek and give it a violent peck with the kleenex glove. Surprisingly satisfying!
...
How I've never been committed to a mental hospital is beyond me.
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