I never really like 'em roaches.
Just the other night, while watching an episode of Breaking Bad (I'm late at joining the bandwagon), and lo and behold, a big Bad roach decided to join me.
I shriek and called my husband to the rescue. He got rid of it. And I continue to turn back my attention to the TV.
Later that night, I asked him how he got rid of the cockroach. You see, the husband has this annoying habit of disposing the roaches deaf bodies into the toilet bowl. And for some reason, the roaches tend not to go down in spite of being flushed (resilient even at death). He, knowing why I asked, replied "In the tpilet bowl, where its swimming and scuba driving".
Tsk, my husband's humour!