Descriptive Essay On Bug Men

I’ve seen it all. The horrible facsimile of reality we live in is beginning to break down. Things aren’t right. I’ve seen things. Things that make me question my sanity.

A recent trip to the grocery store turned into a Lovecraftian nightmare. I usually have to go to three different grocery stores because crème fraîche is impossible to find in this land of abundance and my fancy French cookbook calls for it in nearly every recipe.

Grocery stores are demonic. The vast selection of yogurts alone should strike fear into your soul. Plain, flavored, cup form, tub form, tube form. Some have fruit, some don’t have fruit, some have fruit that’s not quite fruit. High fructose corn syrup and milk from rBST cattle.

Dairy cows are forcibly impregnated for the majority of their brief existence and hooked up to machines and drained of
The Age of the Bug Man is upon us. Weird, cockroach men swarm college campuses. They scurry to and from class, crawling back to their dorms to watch hardcore pornography and League of Legends streams behind locked doors. Eyes as black as coal; no light escapes.

Bug Men are a hardy bunch. They eat anything. Mexican food is a particular favorite. Bug Men come in all shapes and sizes. Many are slightly overweight. All of them wear glasses. Bug Men are a cowardly bunch. They flee at the first sign of trouble. Conflict is to be avoided at all costs.

Perhaps it’s the avoidance of conflict that lies at the crux of our social ills. Kids aren’t allowed to punch each other in the face anymore. Tattling to the principle has replaced the playground brawls of yore. The managerial classes of corporate America have never thrown a punch. They were good boys and girls, and ratted out all their enemies to the school administration. I’d wager many would drop their haughty attitude if they had only gotten beat up in school. Every student government member that gets shoved into a locker in high school is a life