Wife wakes me up one night at about 3am - she hears a small scraping sound coming from the corner of the ceiling in the master bedroom. I take a mag lite and pound it against the ceiling, and we can hear something scurrying along above the paneling.
So I set up some hardcore old fashion mousetraps (I'm not about to glue this fucker down and release him into the wild or something - this is MY house, and he's invaded it - he's as good as dead). The problem is, I don't think he has access to anything but the ceiling, so setting them up on the floor is dangerous (for the kids), and likely worthless. I lift up a panel from the drop ceiling in the kitchen, and place it there. I'm told peanut butter drives these little fuckers wild, so I'm a little liberal in applying it.
I check them the next morning, and the little shit cleaned them off WITHOUT SETTING OFF THE TRAPS. Closer investigation shows that even if it did end up setting it off, there's not enough clearance to actually have it snap properly where I've got it.
So I find a better location, and set it up there. That night, I get up to get a drink, and I hear a snap in the kitchen, then some random scratching, then silence. Like I said, the drop ceiling only has a little bit of clearance, and I wasn't about to reach up there to check, so I grabbed the digital camera and stuffed it up there and snapped away. I wish I would have saved the picture, but to be honest, it creeped me out a little bit. The trap ended up snapping him just behind the ears, and his eyes were REALLY bulging out - it was actually pretty disturbing.
I ended up scooping him into a bag, and winging him into the woods outside. Hopefully some raccoon will get into it and choke on the bag and die. That'd be fucking rad, as I hate raccoons probably about as much as I hate mice.
Long story short, I don't know what to do about cockroaches. You're welcome to come live with me if you can survive the harsh Canadian winters. And stomach the beer.