Roaches are large ugly fuckers indeed, and while I can sort of grudgingly appreciate their tenacity and indestructibility from a distance, having to suddenly encounter one up close and personal doesn't do much for my steel core of soft and cuddly either. Thankfully I only have to deal with them while in NY and for the most part Dad's cat uses them for alternate (if disgustingly crunchy) sources of protein so I don't have to worry too much about it unless I catch her in the (gross) act of eating one.

Weirdly enough, they wig me out far more dead than alive. I think it's the stiff little legs pointing into the air.