Bugs don't actually ever "develop a resistance" to pesticides, right? The fleas aren't actually "getting immune" to the old pet flea meds? These things aren't antibiotics, they're poisons that eat through the little things' chitin and eggshells and stuff. How exactly are you going to overcome that?

Bacteria are able to develop immunities to antibiotics that because their life-cycles are really, really short - they evolve really fast. Also, because huge populations of them are constantly being bomboarded with huge quantities of antibiotics due to Industrial Shit I Do Not Actually Understand, so there's plenty of opportunity for one bacteria to come up with a helpful mutation to resist a specific antibiotic and reproduce a lot.

Bugs don't live long, but they live at least a few days, which means population-wide genetic changes are going to take orders of magnitude longer than they do for bacteria. And they've got other places to live than on crops and domestic animals, and we're not spraying pesticides in the forest or giving flea pills to deer.

So I feel like if bugs are "learning" anything on a genetic level, the majority of survival-conducive mutations that actually get passed on are going to be the ones that tell them to stay away from humans and our stuff, rather than tiny changes that make their exoskeletons a little tougher in the face of something corrosive.

Evolution likes path-of-least-resistance shit like that, right? Even if a flea all of a suddem mutates up a total resistance to pesticide X, and that mutation doesn't impact them negatively otherwise, and that flea survives contact with said pesticide and breeds, it's not going to do as well reproductively as another flea on a deer in the forest that's got another mutation that tells fleas to slightly prefer deer/raccoons/bears/etc over dogs/cats/horses/etc. The forest flea has plenty of potential mates because no one's given its deer any Frontline-or-generic-equivalent-thereof; the house flea, in a house where most of the other fleas just got massacred, obviously has fewer opportunities.

(I feel bad for the mutant flea now...)

The only way I can see the "fleas get used to pesticides" narrative making sense is if some of the pesticides actually are antibiotics, and they function by messing up a symbiotic bacteria that lives on/in fleas, and that bacteria is actually the thing that mutates...?

But even then, it would have to be slower, because so few fleas ever come in contact with flea killer in the first place.

Anyway, I refuse to buy still-under-patent flea killer anymore because the generic stuff is fine.


Nov. 22nd, 2015 05:29 pm
my cat when I get in the shower every single morning: *whine whine yowl yowl heartbroken crying nyehhhhhh* continuously until I get back out

my cat every time he realizes I'm under the blankets in bed: *pats and experimentally scratches around the blankets for at least five minutes to make sure he knows exactly where every part of my body can be found*

my cat at dawn every single morning: *tries to claw his way under my bedroom door*

my cat when I accidentally shut him in an empty room: *peaceful and silent acceptance of his situation for the entirety of the >2 hours it takes for me to notice that he's missing*

Nov. 4th, 2015 08:41 pm
Have lost faith in everything. Spent all morning trying to convince my cat to come clean to me. Can't lie to myself any longer, I know he's a Sith Lord.


Edit 1: Hour one of the interrogation was all feigned innocence. Flailing after my hair, pretending enmity and fear for the chipmunks - the usual tired old schtick. God, Bu, don’t you know that I see through you now.


Edit 2: Hour 3. He’s starting to crack, now. Can’t even look me in the eye. Barely pretending interest in batting playfully at the camera strap.


Edit 3: Hour 5.

"And if it were true - what would that change, really? Between us? What changes today, @snarp?"

God help me, I don’t know.
him: *betrayed nyehhhhhh*

me: Dude, I already gave you one piece of kale, that is plenty for you.

him: *tries to stick his head in my salad*

me: *puts him on the floor with his piece of kale*

He just really likes greens.
It's clearly not a conscious one. Maybe the same part that managed my auditory hallucinations, when I was having those? If so, I've clearly mellowed out a little since high school, given that I rarely recite incoherent sentence fragments about dismemberment apocalypse bloodses at him.
The point is that I just realized that today, when he walks up to me, I've been reflexively saying, "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. WE HAVE A HATER."

He scratched my hand pretty bad last night, is probably what it is. (He didn't like the noise I was making on the keyboard while engaging with Mettaton, and he attempted to put a stop to it.)

Oct. 5th, 2015 02:22 pm
me 5-10 times every day: Please do something so I am not so tired and gross-feeling, the medical community has failed me, you have to fix this...

my cat: *teethes on my elbow or something*

me: You, also, have failed me...

Oct. 4th, 2015 01:34 pm
I think someone other than me must have succeeded in rounding up the local stray cats. I haven't seen Tux, Yellow Calico, or Black Cat Who Came Into The House That One Time in at least a month, and now I'm seeing chipmunks on the porch. Had Tux or Yellow been on patrol recently, they wouldn't dare.

Next-day update: Like an hour after I posted this a fluffy big-headed tabby I’d never seen before tried to bust through the back door. This is my power.
Me, on the phone: Bye, Mom -

Dad, yelling somewhere behind her: ASK HER IF SHE WANTS TWO CATS

Me: I don't want the cats.

Mom: She doesn't want the cats, dear.

Dad: No! Give me the phone, give it to me!

Mom: *sigh*

Dad, solemnly: Now, honey, listen. There are two new cats here.

Me: I am all catted out.

Buoyancy the Cat, lying beside me apparently asleep: *actually growls??? which he never does??????*

Me: ...And Bu just actually growled??? Which he never does?????? - So, his answer's also no!

Dad: Just come look at them, honey, please.

Me: Take those cats to the shelter.

Dad: No, listen, listen, they're really talented, they're smart, they were singing - they joined hands and sang the Puss in Boots song -

Me: This sounds unlikely, Dad!

Dad: They were singing together the whole way to the house in the car!

Me: This is not a point in the cats' favor.

Dad: The cats are here. They're here at the house. They're here. *hangs up*

(He will probably take them to the shelter.)
because my idiot cat is too flexible. He manages to wipe the stuff off within under 24 hours no matter where I put it. There is no spot on his body he cannot groom.

It's also a good thing the stuff's so much cheaper now.
I put the fake Angel on a paper towel but it smelled too rubbing alcohol-y initially so I put it on the table. Bu sniffed it just now and then ran out of the room in a panic.

...I just heard him knock the desktop out of sleep mode.

#hes blogging
Since the cat was trying to eat it and he knows best, I just tried on the fake C5. It smells about right, to my fuzzy recollection? I don’t own any of the real stuff to compare it to, and I’ve only tried it on myself once, but the scent is properly initializing the expected traumatic scent-memories of being induced to hug and/or make conversation with strangers at family and political events.

(I don’t like C5. Or White Diamonds. They should back off and stop asking me how my horse princess book is. I am trying to read my horse princess book.)

So, an attempt was made! The Dollar Tree’s perfume supplier is not just dumping random stuff into these bottles. And they didn’t overdo the aldehydic elements to the point of harshness, like a dupe I tried a few years back.

It’s already wearing off, though. If I wanted a fake C5 with staying power (I don’t), I’d probably order some oil from one of those Etsy or eBay shops.

Sep. 9th, 2015 06:00 pm

Today I spent $5 on knockoff perfume at Dollar Tree, which I regard as a good decision. Please place your bets as to whether any of these smell 1) good 2) like the originals.

Bu was interested only in the fake Chanel No. 5.
if he'd made sure the new one was dead before hiding it.

Rookie mistake, Bu.
I think Buoyancy's worked out that Dubiety is not coming back. He is being notably less buoyant than his name would suggest, and very clingy.

He wants to stay in the bedroom with me and wake me up every hour or so at night, I guess to make sure I'm alive; when I put him out, he claws at the carpet outside the bedroom door. When I take a shower, he sits on the sink and yowls at me. When I leave the house, he waits on the ottoman facing the front door, where he can see me right away when I come back.

Jul. 14th, 2015 05:31 pm
The skin cyst on my back that’s right in the middle of my bra-strap line is back. I’m going to ask the cat to lance it for me. That seems like it would work out well.
And very, very loud. Buoyancy the Cat really wants to get to them.
I am extremely fucked up, and got him treats and toys and a few cans of fancier-than-usual food, instead of getting myself intoxicated. Because I feel that intoxication causes... cysts? Grief cysts?????? Similar to cystic acne, hard and encapsulated and uncomfortable to sleep on. Different in that Vitamin A is unlikely to serve as an efficacious treatment.
I was cleaning the cat carrier just now and noticed the tag on it, which said "Nixon [Mylastname]." I ripped it off and wadded it up without thinking about it. I am fucked up like some kind of an Edna St. Vincent Millay which is specifically preoccupied with the mortality of badly-behaved cats.

I was looking for something in the medicine cabinet earlier, found some old meds of Papaw's, and left them in place as always, because "he might need them," then felt distantly shitty, then left them alone.

I need to try and be Roxy Lalonde instead of Rose Lalonde for once and work on the Facing And Accepting Death thing. I just need to try and not do it up too Roxy and drink this bottle of fruit wine Mom got me in one evening or something.

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