Monday, April 26, 2010

For a number of valid and invalid reasons, the kitchen's not as clean as it should be--my bare feet actually stuck to the floor this morning--and there's a fly buzzing around, either looking for his dead friends, whom Lula and I killed with the fly swatter, or for a way into the cabinet, so he can lay eggs in the brown sugar, which I will drink with my coffee tomorrow, and then fly eggs will hatch beneath my skin and worms will come out of my eyes!

Could it happen? Yes, it could. Also, the flies could interbreed with Venus flytraps (a strange reaction after being "spritzed" with XXXX Strong Antibacterial Countertop Spray) and become extremely aggressive, hyper-intelligent, pack-oriented flesh-eaters, feasting on you and me!

Oh, jolly it is to be with thee!
Dead and merry, merry we be!
Eaten alive by flies are we, while fly larvae exit excru-ti-a-ting-ly!

The obvious conclusion, of course, is that flies need to be annihilated. By me, and increasingly willingly by Lula, whom I wasn't too sure about brainwashing with a hatred of flies, though I couldn't help it: I hate flies! I kill them! Even if they have an important place in the food chain, providing vital nutrients to birds, small reptiles, and blah blah blah! I hate them. And now Lula hates them too, and I'm TOTALLY okey-dokey with it, especially when I find their smooshed entrails on the window screen. :)

Yay, dead flies! We love you!

We love you, dead flies, ohhhh, we love you
We'll try to be true, dead flies, truuuueeee, oooooo, to you
Because you brought such joy to us when you died without a fuss
when we found your guts were spread
all over the new bedspread

When we didn't hear your goddamn buzzing no more,
chasing behind you was less a chore
When you didn't rub your poopy hands
all over the baby's head
that was when we really knew
you were really truly dead
That was when we really knew
that we really looooove you!


packofchicklets said...

you have finally gone completely off the deep end haven't you? well, join the club. here is my poem:

i sit at work and twiddle my thumbs
my head is fuzzy and butt is numb!
from 8-5 slouched in my chair
i bite my nails and i twist my hair.
oh, how i long for my comfy bed
where i can lay just like i'm dead
i feel just like a stinky beached trout
with a lump of almond butter in my snout.

love to you!

packofchicklets said...

and if i dare?
hop here and there?
just be aware
your shampoo is nair!

packofchicklets said...

so life your haunches in a spirited flaunt
and don't let your gizzard go gaunt

there'll always be a place for you
right by the gnu
in the county zoo!

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