So, I’m writing Comedian Tom Briscoe an email because he is our very special guest tomorrow night on Happy Hour with Jonna Spilbor and Keryl Pesce…and, before I hit send, I need his email address. And since MY ENTIRE LIFE, is stored in my iPhone (smart…not!), I have to march all the way downstairs and into my bedroom to retrieve my phone, which is charging on the charger, which is attached to… my alarm clock, which is SIX INCHES FROM MY FACE when my face is on the pillow (just setting the scene, stay with me).
So, as I proceed to pluck said phone from the charger, I feel something DISTINCTLY HARD AND CRUNCHY AND MOVING IN AND AROUND MY PALM! So, I scream. No, it was more like a screech. No, a squeal. Definitely a squeal. And as my phone goes flying one way, the hard crunchy wiggly thing goes flying the other way and when it lands on the floor with a definitely thud, I can clearly see it is a STINK BUG! It was a STINK BUG, and I TOUCHED IT and it BIT ME!
Yes, I touched a stink bug. And it bit me.
I am COMPLETELY grossed out. But I am also very appreciative for Comedian Tom Briscoe, because if I hadn’t needed his email address, I would have laid my unsuspecting head, which is inextricably attached to my unsuspecting MOUTH, six inches from SNEAKIEST STINK BUG THAT EVER LIVED, and I’m certain that dirty little d-bag would have tried to crawl on my tongue while I lay sleeping like an angel because apparently, human beings eat a lot of bugs that way. In our sleep. And mashed up in peanut butter. I read it on the internet, ergo, it must be true.
And that is how Comedian Tom Briscoe saved my life. The end.