I hate stink bugs.
Unlike garden spiders and walking sticks, I get no joy watching these brown crawlers swarm up the side of the house facing the sun then hide in the cracks waiting to get inside. As soon as any door opens, in they fly or drop to climb under anything including clothing, sheets and towels. I really don’t care that they are a Darwinian success story, a seemingly harmless natural wonder. Stink bugs are pests! Similar to the infestation of crickets in Dallas and the 17-year cicadas in Baltimore, stink bugs survive by shear numbers. Predators like our resident praying mantis gorge and give up.
It does no good to crush and thrown them in the garbage. That sweet rancid odor persists. Sweep, and they slime green goo; suck them up in the vacuum cleaner, and they release more foul abuse. The best I could do was to catch as many as I could in the cup of my hand, flush them down the toilet, then go back for more. Always more.
Some cultures have an acquired taste for stink bugs as food. I assure you that anyone is welcome to my share. Perhaps someone will discover a miraculous use for them, medicinal stink bugs or maybe the next big rage in renewable bio fuel. Think of measuring mileage in stink bugs/hour. Now there’s an appealing idea.
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