Let me begin by saying, as always with the bug videos that we choose to share: Do not watch this video. It is terrible. Why would you ever even want to watch it? Why would anyone, when a video is labeled “crazy roach infestation” choose to first watch that video by themselves and, second, share that video with other people? WHO KNOWS! Who knows how and why the brain and heart work the way that they do. Maybe because they have a very good friend (not themselves, thank god, in this hypothetical scenario it is an honest-to-goodness friend) whose apartment is constantly full of roaches, to the point where the first person almost couldn’t even visit this friend’s apartment anymore. But then one night they, because you can’t even believe how good of a friend they are, helped that friend clean the apartment and put down lots of boric acid and roach traps, and it worked so well in getting rid of the roaches! In this scenario I’m posing! And maybe this first person wants to say: If you have lots of roaches, just do the stuff that websites say! My goodness! Just do it! What are you waiting for? THIS VIDEO TO HAPPEN TO YOU?!

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh! How crazy did it seem? The only correct answer is, “so crazy that I cannot even.” All the other answers are wrong. Also, I apologize! (Via UniqueDaily.)

Comments (23)
  1. How will I never know?

    Since the camera clearly fainted before I got to see the infestation.

    • You know what. Great. I think B i l l i o n a i r e F r i e n d s . C O Mit’s a good pla’ce to me’et sweet friend even rich sin’gles. I am certain I can me;et a ri;ch man there, it’s the first and best cl;ub for billion;aires to interact with others and make friends.

  2. I don’t know, back in the 90s I knew this guy named Joe, he had a roach infestation in his apartment and he seemed alright with it.

  3. Screw PETA, am I right?

  4. It’s so crazy it’d make me want to leave the city in a hurry, and I’d just have to cross my fingers that as I entered the Lincoln Tunnel there would be no police-pursued diamond thieves to lose control of their car and crash into a truck loaded with barrels of explosive toxic waste that some slimy Fortune 500 company has ordered to be illegally dumped in New Jersey, causing the tunnel entrances’ collapse and trapping me inside. Goddamn cockroaches.

  5. Please hurry up and do about three more posts quickly so that this one falls to the bottom of the page when I load up Videogum because even the title of the post makes my skin crawl with nastiness. Roaches! Ick! I think I see one now (oh that’s just the cursor but now I am paranoid.)

  6. This wasn’t so bad but I watch too much Hoarders.

  7. Oh, dear god, I’m having flashbacks to Florida!

  8. At least they’re not spiders, right djfreshie?

  9. MORE BUGS!!!

  10. Ironically, this is the apartment Joe Rogan had to live in after he ran out of Fear Factor hosting money.

  11. Is this footage from a 70s German art-house film?

  12. I bet if I lived there for a year, I could finally break my crippling habit of being relatively neat and clean for a heterosexual male. Because how would those things help at all, in the face of that?

    Although, where would I move at the end of the year, to break my new habit of walking on stilts, sleeping in my car, and muttering “The bugs… the bugs…”?

  13. if i could do anything about my current living situation, maybe I would!!

  14. Back in those heady late 90s, the company I worked for sent me out to Los Angeles to help open a new office. I was put up in an awesome corporate apartment complex (not to my taste, but still awesome–swimming pool, tennis, by the beach, maid service, etc) for my first month with the condition that I needed to find a place by the time the month was up.

    It was harder than I thought! Though it sounds glamorous (and that corporate apt certainly WAS glamorous) my job (in book publishing) didn’t (still doesn’t) pay much. I did not know anything about Los Angeles neighborhoods so wanted to be somewhere that seemed “cool” and “safe”. For whatever reason, I decided that I wanted to be around Fairfax and Melrose? (Cool choice, Admill!) Anyway, I couldn’t afford much! And the places I could afford would be taken minutes after the open house began.

    With the clock ticking toward homelessness, I finally found a place that seemed ok. It had gross carpet, but whatever. It was fine. And it appeared to be clean.

    A week later, I left my awesome corporate apartment and moved to my cool new neighborhood. As I’m unpacking boxes, I open a closet and see something scurry. Ok, so maybe it wasn’t a roach. A few minutes later, another. Roach confirmed. I kept seeing more and more. I went into the kitchen and opened the drawers that my silverware would go into–roaches. Bathroom cabinet? Roaches. Total infestation. I stopped unpacking, actually put anything I had unpacked back into boxes and suitcases. Called the landlord who basically just said I signed the lease and I’ll be penalized if I break it. (i had no savings, so was kind of stuck.)

    This became the darkest period of my life. Every night after work, I’d park my car at the apartment and would wander to a) get something to eat because I refused to keep or consume anything in my roachhole of an apartment and then, b) to find a bar and drink just enough so that I was about to pass out but could still manage to stagger home, turn on all of the lights to keep THEM at bay, and then pass out on the couch. (Funny anecdote: The only time I’ve ever seriously considered killing myself was one morning when I was doing what we all occasionally need to do on the toilet, a roach crawled up from under the toiletseat, so it was now on top of the toilet seat where I was sitting. Oh my god. Please just let an anvil fall out of the sky and smash both me and this fucking roach!) So that’s how I lived–a wretched drunken, degenerate existence for the next 3 weeks or so.

    Finally, I came home from work one day and noticed an odd smell. As I got close to the bedroom, I found it curious that the carpet was soaking wet. I opened the door and, lo and behold! the ceiling had caved in, water and debris everywhere. Weird Russian dude upstairs overflowed his toilet. Disgusting? Of course! But I couldn’t have been happier! Took loads of pictures, developed them (late 90s, remember), and then talked to the landlord. He had everything professionally cleaned, gave me money for a new mattress, and set me up in a VERY NICE apartment that should have been $200 more than what I was paying. (This one was in Hollywood, just under Runyon Canyon. Much better neighborhood.)

    I was much happier in my new apartment, but Los Angeles had now lost it’s luster for me. I spent the rest of the year trying to shake my now worrisome appetite for drinking and also to convince my boss to move me back. I left 11 months after arriving.

    So that’s my story. Sorry it’s long, but it needed to be told. #noroachmo

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