Remember when you made your first ever appearance, a couple of years ago when Golfwidow came to visit me? Remember how horrified I was that you chose to show up right as I had houseguests to impress? Remember when I vaccuumed you all up with the Dirt Devil?

Well, we've had some fun times since then. I've tried to smush you, you've been too small to smoosh. I'd put out ant traps, you'd just go somewhere else. I bet you thought you were super cute, didn't you, you teeny tiny monsters. You thought you could send lookouts one at a time to scurry across my countertops and confuse the hell out of me. "Where could they all be?" I had thought. "How come there's only one ant at a time out here?"

Little did I know that it wasn't ant reconnaissance hurrying around the kitchen, but sole survivors from a mass ant suicide. There they all were -- they'd somehow managed to get under the SEALED CAP of an UNOPENED BOTTLE OF MAPLE SYRUP -- a tribe of ants floating around in what I'm sure is Ant Heaven.

I marvel at your teeny tiny ingenuity. Fucking bastards. Now I can't eat pancakes. YOU WIN THIS ROUND, ANTS!