Saturday, April 23, 2005

Now I am become Death, Destroyer of Musca Domestica

Of all the things I dislike (and the list is long), there is one that rises head and shoulders above all others: The fly.

I find it's almost as if these bothersome creatures were created for the sole purpose of driving me insane. Now that it's hot out, they are everywhere. They are in my bedroom at night. There are in the port-a-shitters when I'm trying to accomplish an "urgent mission". They are on my meatloaf in the chowhall and they are FUCKING MULTIPLYING.

Most Marines swat at them with a hand, or their cover (hat). Some have even gone far enough to purchase flyswatters. None of them have taken the time & energy to learn how to capture them for torture. Except me.

My tools are as diabolical as they are simple: Half empty water bottles. A leatherman. A lighter. Anthills. Bleach and other cleaning solutions. Fly Tape. Superglue. Hand-washing gel (flammable!). And whatever other sinister methods my hideous, depraved mind manages to conjure up.

Capturing one of the enemy is not simple, but through discipline & refinement, I have borne forth such a method: Flies see & react to movement, so I approach with care. The most common mistake is to try bringing your hand down atop them, but when a fly flies, it goes off to the side, easily dodging a hand. So then, what to do? Come in from the side.

That's right. From the side. Almost like clapping my hands. CLAPPING FOR DEATH. By cupping my hands and bringing them in very, very slowly, I can get within inches of a fly on either side. Then, it's a simple matter to bring them together swiftly while still cupped. Since hands are (relatively) soft, the fly isn't crushed, just trapped.

Then the fun begins.

I may choose to drown them in the water. I may choose to slowly tear their heads from their bodies with my leatherman. Or singe their wings with my lighter & leave them on the ground, letting them slowly bake to death in the sun. My options are many. My amusement is great.

You may ask yourself "What the hell is wrong with that man?" If you're asking, you've never had a fly come up from between your legs whilst taking a shit, only to land on your lips.

Oh, and you may be interested to note that as I typed this, one more fly joined the ranks of the fallen as it crawled across my arm.

2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Exellent! Get those flies, they're bastards out here in Australia too! Anyway, sent package, hope it gets to you soonish. The DVDs are Australian/Asian region so hopefully someone can play them out there. :) Take care!

5:48 PM  
Blogger ddoody said...

Thanks for the DVDs! I always welcome new ways to keep myself entertained. We have several guys with overseas DVD players, so I'm sure it won't be a problem to get them up & running.

Thanks again.

1:51 AM  

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