Everything kind of went to hell for me around midnight.
I was sitting on my front porch with one of the stray cats that adopted my house, Francesco (don't let the name fool you, it's a girl), when Zazu, another cat that loves to lay all over our lawn and I'm pretty sure raped Francesco before, decided to drop by. Francesco hates Zazu like a feminist hates any year before 1920, and proceeded to express her ill-feelings for him by bitch-slapping him in the face when he got too close. Usually she just hisses, but this time she felt the need to get violent, and I can't blame her; for some reason, Zazu wanted to violate her personal bubble no matter what kind of fit she was throwing. He proceeded to stalk her around the porch, and when she finally tried to slink away along the house, he pushed her against the wall and chased her to my backyard. Now out of the demons' presence, I ran inside and jumped into bed, a little scarred from witnessing that.
This, however, was not to be my final trial of the night. I heard a rustling, and, after looking at my roommate on the couch, I could eliminate her, since she was napping. I was the only other alive thing in my room that I was aware of, and I wasn't rustling anything. It could only mean one thing.......bug. Slowly, I turned my head to the Walmart plastic sack by my night box (a nightstand for poor people and people who are too lazy to unpack) and there it was, a cricket. My reaction? Quietly grab one of my work shoes and beat the living crap out of the rude bastard. I don't recall extending a friggin' invitation to the creatures of the outside world. After I went Conan on it, I scooped him up and drowned him in the toilet before sending his carcass to Bane or anyone else living in the sewers as a message: try me, sucka.
Yeah, tonight wasn't exactly my night. *sigh*