Letter to Mr. Ant

Dear Mr. Ant,

Out of all the lovely homes in the surrounding area of my house, you've chosen mine to inhabit.  Although, it has been quite a lovely year, thus far, weather-wise, you've taken up in the walls of my downstairs bathroom.  Whether you are here of your own volition or have conglomerated here as a member of your extensive family, I feel I should thank you, in part, for choosing my home to infest over everyone else's.  So thank you...., I guess.

However, I have a cat and he, alone, is more than a hand full.  Whether it's his constant whining and complaining or policing his mischievous character or repeatedly having to clean up his vomit, I have my hands full.  I'm not looking for anymore roommates.  

Even though, in all honesty, anytime I've stumbled across your masses creeping and crawling about my bathroom and lower living room, you all do seem fairly self-sufficient, of which I do appreciate.  However, in the end, you and your kind are not welcome in my house.

I thought you and your friends would've gotten the idea that you're not welcome, when you came across the slaughtered corpses of your mates.  Poisoned and (hopefully) experienced a painful and horrible death.  If I were taking up residence somewhere, uninvited, then came across some of my friends and family lying dead out in a field, whether I knew the reason behind their death's or not, I'd get the f*ck outta there.  Of course, I am a brilliant mind whose brain is not the size of a microbe.

Or the time I came across hundreds of you hugging the wall of my bathroom, engaged in some kind of "outdoor" festival, and I scooped you all up and flushed you.  That was a good time.  For me, anyway.  Not so much for your friends, I suppose.  But who doesn't enjoy a nice pool party?

Clearly reasoning doesn't appeal to your kind.  I know that despite all the f*cking poison I've put down you f*ckers aren't taking the f*cking hint.  So I've decided to allow you all to stay.... On one condition.

Using the aforementioned toilet, I've decided to use it to both of our advantages.  In addition to the poop and pee that is deposited in it on a daily basis, I've also incorporated it into this scenario.  Every time I come across one of you little motherf*ckers, I'm going to scoop you up and dump you into the toilet.  Admittedly, the bowl won't always be filled with just cool clean water, because let's face it, if I'm coming into that room, there's a predetermined reason behind it.  However, if you survive, you'll be all the more strong and will better appreciate your survival.

I will be scooping your skinny little asses into the bowl.  Poop, pee, or all of the above, I will flush the toilet.  Now.., your part of this plan is to swim against the current.  Swim against the swirling stormy waters, and IF (or when) you pull yourselves out, you are more than welcome to stay in my house for the rest of your natural lives.  Granted all you little f*ckers look alike, so there may be a time or two or always that you'll find yourself scooped up again and thrust back into the bowl.  In other words, get the f*ck outta my house!!!