Ever feel like you’re right smack dab in the middle of a gigantic bug orgy? And just to clarify, by gigantic I mean a great quantity of overly-amorous insects as opposed to a smaller number of school bus-sized, mutant bugs that would be capable of taking out entire buildings with each erotic thrust of fury and passion. Otherwise, cities would fall, eventually leading to entire continents lost to the violent, earth-shattering display of reproductive prowess that would come to change the face of the world as we know it today.
Boy, would that be an interesting period in history for our children’s children to learn about one day in school!
But we’re not here to speculate about Mothra’s impassioned descendants today and their imminent destruction of all mankind, mind you, for instead it seems like a fitting time to say a few words about these normal-sized, yet impressively-impetuous insects … known innocently enough only as lovebugs … who’ve taken to the skies and the breezeways and far too often even the windshield of my own car in search of that extra little adrenaline rush that makes creepy bug sex worth having in the first place. And for those of you more conservative folks out there in the crowd who might assume that I’m over-exaggerating this no-holds-barred, seasonal love fest that’s raising antennae throughout the insect kingdom, all I can say is that maybe it’s time for you to pop for a plane ticket and come down to Florida and experience the non-stop action for yourselves firsthand…
You know what they say – once you get swarmed by lovebugs, you’ll never take a step outdoors in the state of Florida during May or September again!
Really though, I guess maybe it wouldn’t be so bad except for the fact that it’s almost as if they get an extra, almost exhibitionist-like kick out of rubbing our faces in it because apparently the woods and the grass and the abundant swampland around the state of Florida aren’t spacious enough for their devious intentions, so instead they see fit to come romping into town like a mini-Mardi Gras, defiling every clean surface they can land their stinky butts on. Do I come into the swamp and have wild, freaky sex all over your front door?! Not after that run in with the poison ivy, I sure don’t…
And it’s too bad, honestly, because if it weren’t for their incessant need to flaunt their more than abundant sex lives in our faces, I’d probably be a bit more apt to admit that deep down I actually kind of admire these crazy, little kid-making kids. I mean, I hold a great deal of respect for anything with the ability to procreate and fly at the same time – talk about skill! Heck, most days I’m happy to just get a chance to do the first one – anything after that is pretty much gravy. And don’t even get me started on the duration – even if it technically is until they die shortly thereafter, that’s a hell of a way to go, wouldn’t you think?! We should all be so fortunate to go out all sweaty and exhausted after the longest sex bender the animal kingdom has ever known.
I’m not sure who would be the best diplomat for the job, but maybe we can come to some sort of compromise between those affectionate little buggers and guys like me who’d just once like to make it down to the grocery store and back without watching at least a dozen of them get plastered in pairs across my windshield … because if you think that dead bugs on their own are tough to scrape off your car! But there’s got to be something we can do to meet in the middle – maybe we can let up on the raid if they agree to restrain their emotions to walls away from breezeways and doorways that we peoples have to walk back and forth through day-in and day-out. Anything to keep us from having to scrub our clothes free of insects mid-coitus every time we enter a building!
Come on, you horny, little devils – just be the bigger species and meet us halfway on this one. Well, bigger in a sense of compassion, that is … I’m sure we’ll get to that other page in our genetically-mutated history soon enough as it is…