So, the woman and I are in the process of moving out of our apartment. And it's hot. So we had the windows open, right? We have screens in the windows, bugs have never come into the apartment in a significantly problematic way.
So I'm happily packing, I look up at the ceiling in our living room, and I see a bunch of insects. Then I look around -- at the rest of the ceiling and the wall by the window -- and I realize that these things are everywhere.
Everywhere. I look at the window, and sure enough, the insects are small enough that they're coming through the screen in droves.
Long story short -- our living and our bedroom were overrun with nuisances so small you could more easily identify them by their shadows than their bodies. I started whacking them with a catalog, but that only did so much good. I got the vacuum, but it didn't make a significant dent in the population.
So we decided to go to Wal-Mart (I know, I know -- I hate Wal-Mart too. But when it's midnight and you're overrun with winged insects and it's the only store open ...) to buy a bug zapper. But Wal-Mart, which is a mile long and sells everything from watermelons to carpets, doesn't sell bug zappers. So we bought a bottle of aersol insecticide and a broom. We got home, moved all of our furniture out of the bedroom and sprayed the room with Bugout (product review tomorrow!).
This left the problem of "where the hell are we going to sleep." So, I used the broom we bought to stab the hell out of the insects on the walls and ceiling of our living room. And it worked like, really well. I was able to take out entire swarms with a few, swift, upward stabs of the broom.
So now our mattress is on our living room floor (surrounded by boxes) and most of our insects are dead.
Moral of the story: Either A.) Brooms are sharper than you think or B.) This is a convenient way for me to complain about moving. This is the seventh time I've moved in ten years, and I think I'm about done with it.
Two pics for evidence -- first, a remaining swarm of insects (the original swarms must have been ten times this big -- no big white gaps like in this pic) that I'm about to attack with my broom:

And the tip of my broom (you can see the corner of our mattress on our ... ahem ... pristine, dog never peed upon living room rug, too):

So I'm happily packing, I look up at the ceiling in our living room, and I see a bunch of insects. Then I look around -- at the rest of the ceiling and the wall by the window -- and I realize that these things are everywhere.
Long story short -- our living and our bedroom were overrun with nuisances so small you could more easily identify them by their shadows than their bodies. I started whacking them with a catalog, but that only did so much good. I got the vacuum, but it didn't make a significant dent in the population.
So we decided to go to Wal-Mart (I know, I know -- I hate Wal-Mart too. But when it's midnight and you're overrun with winged insects and it's the only store open ...) to buy a bug zapper. But Wal-Mart, which is a mile long and sells everything from watermelons to carpets, doesn't sell bug zappers. So we bought a bottle of aersol insecticide and a broom. We got home, moved all of our furniture out of the bedroom and sprayed the room with Bugout (product review tomorrow!).
This left the problem of "where the hell are we going to sleep." So, I used the broom we bought to stab the hell out of the insects on the walls and ceiling of our living room. And it worked like, really well. I was able to take out entire swarms with a few, swift, upward stabs of the broom.
So now our mattress is on our living room floor (surrounded by boxes) and most of our insects are dead.
Moral of the story: Either A.) Brooms are sharper than you think or B.) This is a convenient way for me to complain about moving. This is the seventh time I've moved in ten years, and I think I'm about done with it.
Two pics for evidence -- first, a remaining swarm of insects (the original swarms must have been ten times this big -- no big white gaps like in this pic) that I'm about to attack with my broom:

And the tip of my broom (you can see the corner of our mattress on our ... ahem ... pristine, dog never peed upon living room rug, too):
