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Last night I was sitting on my bed, minding my own business, when I felt a strange little tickle on my head. I’ve always prided myself on being a quick thinker and a problem solver, so I reached up and scratched my head. I was very pleased with my decision. Not only did it feel amazing, but the little tickle went away immediately.

I felt like the Queen of the Free World … until it happened again. I decided that maybe I should go look in the mirror for what was climbing around my hair follicles because when I was volunteering in The Minion’s kindergarten class last Thursday, the principal was going from class to class checking the kids’ heads for lice. For a brief moment, paranoia was spelled J-E-N.

If you’ve never had the pleasure of dealing with lice, count yourself as one of the luckiest mother-fuckers on the planet. It sucks! By the time you spend about eighty-bajillion dollars on treatments, wash ALL OF THE THINGS, bag what can’t be washed, vacuum every inch of the house (including the furniture and pets),and spend countless hours going through every strand of hair on your child’s head like a hungry ape for over a week, you’re physically and mentally exhausted. There’s not enough wine, liquor, or therapy available on the planet to make it okay.

Luckily it was just an ant.

Wait. What?!

There was a fucking ant crawling on my head! How does that even happen? Where did it come from? It’s the middle of January! Aren’t they all hibernating or dead or at least hiding from the paparazzi this time of year?

As far as I know, ants usually go where there’s food, but I stopped keeping snacks on my head after that family of mice started making a nest up there last year. Live and learn, right?

There’s only one logical explanation for this atrocity …

(Insert dramatic music here)


Here's some nightmare fuel for you. You're welcome.

Zombie ants are coming for me, you guys. That little asshole was after my brain! The joke was on him though, because there’s nothing in there but a bunch of voices and inappropriate jokes.

But now I’m nervous. I mean, I squished the living hell out of it, but if movies and television have taught me anything, it’s that zombies rarely travel alone. We all know that TV doesn’t lie and movies are completely factual, so this means that the delicate ecosystem inside of my head is in imminent danger!

I’ve got to come up with a solid plan to stop them from getting to my think-meat and to get the voices to chill out. All that panicking and screaming is giving me a headache!

I thought about wearing earplugs to bed, but then I wouldn’t be able to hear when the gnomes sneak into my room at night to steal my socks or move my keys. That also leaves my nostrils wide open as an alternate point of entry, and if I wear a nose plug to bed, I’d have to become a mouth-breather and then they’re just going to burrow through the roof of my mouth. I’ve never had to see a dentist or surgeon to fix a tunnel in my flapper, but I’m sure that (aside from the questions it would raise) it would not be a cheap fix.

I also considered trying to sleep hanging upside down, but that’s just not feasible for so many reasons:
A) I’m not a bat.
B) I’m also not a vampire.
C) My blood would rush to my head and I’d probably explode in a gory mess all over the floor. I can’t make my roommate clean that up. It would be rude.
D) Those assholes can crawl on the ceiling.

I can’t even tape a plastic bag around my neck to keep them out because I kind of like breathing. If I stopped doing that, we’re going right back to my roommate cleaning up a disturbing mess because you evacuate your bowels when you die, and that’s not exactly how I want to be remembered.

Basically, I’ve got nothing. If you need me, I’ll be over here with a wooden stake, a bottle of holy water, a blowtorch, and a flashlight. Hopefully the sacrificial lambs on the floor and the fly paper that I’ve used to cover the bed frame will suffice to keep me safe until I learn to levitate.

If you can come up with any helpful suggestions, feel free to leave a comment. I’ll try anything once! Maybe twice if it doesn’t result in me burning down the house…