"Q, get the Sandal of Death!"

…what I heard when I tried to check email before bedtime. Did I mention one of the inevitable facts of life in Dixie? Roaches. Big ones, little ones, fast ones, slow ones, ones that sit there in the middle of the floor and dare you to look at them cross-eyed…

They may be able to survive a nuclear apocalypse but they’re no match for a size eleven Teva.


About Derek Olsen

I'm a layman within the Episcopal Church with a PhD in New Testament and an interest in most things medieval, monastic, and liturgical. My chief job is keeping up with my priestly wife and our two awesome kids. In addition to that, I earn a living, run the St Bede's Breviary, listen to loud goth/industrial music, and do some stuff for the church. I currently serve as Secretary to the Standing Commission on Liturgy and Music where I'm also co-chair of the Calendar committee and chair of the Digital Publications committee.
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2 Responses to "Q, get the Sandal of Death!"

  1. LutherPunk says:

    I like the ones we had in Florida that you could stomp on, who would turn and laugh at you in return.

  2. Gracious Light says:

    You don’t remember that line in the wedding vows where you promised to kill all the roaches your wife and daughters stumble upon? Come on \, man. They should have made you reaffirm that vow when they stopped you at the Mason-Dixon border crossing to check for hidden stashes of cream of wheat!

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