Behold the horror that is my bathroom. Yes, when I get up at 2 in the morning to answer to a call of nature, that is what I see. I have a brought fluorescent bulb in that bathroom, so when I flick on the light late at night the entire hole is illuminated in all its horror. It's like I have to pee in the bombed out remnants of a WWII safe house. It's like I do number two in the deep dank dark recesses of a crack house. It's like I have to drain the lizard in a... well, you get the idea. So, the next time you think your dainty little bathroom is dirty because your little pink plastic garbage can you bought at Target is overflowing with tissues, think about Ed's Bathroom. Think about it a lot.
I wasted part of my day yesterday watching foreign KFC commercials on You Tube. Why? I have no idea. I found one and then I found more. Some of them are interesting, others are confusing, and the ones from Taiwan are downright imperialistic. That one took place in a war zone with bombs exploding everywhere. A girl who looks like she is wearing a boy scout uniform finds a commander and gravely presents him with a box. He grimly opens it and to a gasp of surprise it's a box of KFC chicken. He grunts his appreciation and then you see entire squadrons of Chinese people holding up piece of chicken in a Hitler-like salute. Throughout this the homey southern face of Colonel Sanders stamped on the box looked eerily out of place.
Florida weather is officially here. The rains of the hurricane were eagerly sucked into the dry earth as well as the flora and fauna and the humidity has come crushing down and smeared across your face like Satan's loofa. My lawn has exploded with those little v-shaped seed antennas and soon I will once again know the joy of having to mow my lawn twice a week. And of course, comes the creatures. Specifically: insects.
During the middle ages people believed in a concept known as Spontaneous Generation, a theory that claims complex life simply and inexplicitly arises out of inanimate objects. It seemed quite reasonable at the time. If you were sitting at a pond and you saw frogs crawl out of mud, you came to the conclusion that frogs came form mud. It seemed a perfectly reasonable ratiocination. This theory has of course been poo-poo'ed away ever since society had developed to the point where we could sustain a nerdly population who would actually sit down a study a frogs sex life.
However, I have lived in Florida for over two decades now and every year I see some new weird-ass bug that I swear I have never seen before. Usually crawling on me, or crawling out of something I have just touched. I often never see these weird bugs again and my only guess is that the environment around me is spontaneously generating them. These horrible things have no real place in nature, no niche in the food chain; they were spawned into existence for the sole purpose of landing on me and grossing me out.
FInally, I present you with today's disturbing video:
2026 Update
Dialing the time machine to June 2006: Ed’s bathroom glows like a war crime, and KFC conquers Taiwan.
Ah, 2006 Ed. The bathroom horror is timeless, but your delivery system is positively antique. A fluorescent bulb? That flickering, buzzing tube of institutional despair has been replaced by LED panels that mimic pure daylight, so now the horrors are even crisper, and we can watch them in 4K on our phones while sitting on the very throne you described. You wasted part of your day on foreign KFC commercials — these days the algorithm would trap me in a three-hour spiral of fried chicken regional variants and never let me leave. But the real evolution? Your spontaneous generation of Florida bugs has become a subscription service. We now have pest-control apps, drone sprays, and a hundred AI-powered scare devices, yet the strange crawling things still arrive, ready to land on my arm the moment I read your post. And mowing twice a week? That's a luxury. The modern lawn is either fake plastic turf with dye, or a proud patch of crunchy weeds. I miss the era when a man could honestly compare his toilet to a crack house and nobody demanded a wellness check.
“2006 Ed, when you grimly accepted that box of KFC chicken in the middle of a bombed-out warzone commercial, did you ever pause to wonder if the Colonel’s spectral smile was laughing at you or with you — and did you ever try eating that chicken while staring at your own bathroom light?” — Beelzebubba the Third
2006 Ed: So, Beelzebubba, you want to know if I pondered the Colonel’s spectral smile while some grim commander accepted that box of fried poultry like it was the Holy Grail? Honestly, I was too busy wondering why the Taiwan commercial looked like Saving Private Ryan if the war was fought over extra crispy. Did the Colonel laugh at me or with me? I figure he laughs at everyone, the same way my bathroom light laughs at me at 2 a.m. when I see the state of that tile. And no, I haven't eaten KFC while staring at that fluorescent horror, but now I kind of want to try it, just to see if the chicken tastes like shame. Probably does. Florida humidity’s already cooking my brain, so thanks for that mental image, you devil. Now I’ll be grimly saluting a drumstick every time I flick on that light. Take that, Colonel.
