Ah, memories of New England. Each year around this time, the flies would swoop into the house. The chill winds of Autumn would ensure it. And I always kept that big blue can of Raid Flying Insect Spray® so I could avoid ever having to make physical contact with these filthy creatures. And spray them I did, and I watched, not because Im sadistic, but because I dared not risk coming into contact with such filth ... on my couch, in my bed, on my pillow ... belch! And, once sprayed, that fly would do twirls, curls, swirls, 90 degree turns that seem aerodynamically impossible. It would bang against the window and careens against the walls. In that flys last two minutes of life, it would get more action than it did in its entire life. But this changed nothing. The fly was still dying. It just wanted to show the world how grandiosely it could do so.
Posted on: Fri, 12 Sep 2014 22:49:23 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015