Plenty of cockroaches in the houses that I've lived in, though mercifully not often in my bedroom, which I maintain as a zero-tolerance zone, with the aid of mosquito screens and bug spray. Nevertheless, I've had a couple of experiences, the memories of which I try to repress, featuring that ghastly mutation, the flying cockroach.
N.B. In England (where they barely exist) you have to say "cockroach" because for some reason "roach" is (or at least was) slang for the dead stub-end of a smoked joint, reefer, spliff or number, nowhatahmsayin?
