Fri Aug 30, 2013, 09:00 PM
MrScorpio (63,761 posts)
I have appeased the Angry Fly Gods by sacrificing one of their own
In the dimming twilight, I lured the buzzing interloper into a confined lit space and martyred it with my trusty sacrificial hand towel.
After chanting, "Death to The Invader!" I gave it a ceremonial burial at sea and it was taken away by a miraculous whirlpool to the Fly Afterlife, where it will eat piles shit and sing songs of glorious battle with his dead brothers.
It was the only honorable thing to do.
Such is the worthy fate of those who dare to tempt my wrath by crossing the external mantle and choosing to dwell where Fly angels fear to tread.
I Am The Fly Slayer! Hear my call.
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I have appeased the Angry Fly Gods by sacrificing one of their own (Original post)
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Response to MrScorpio (Original post)
Sat Aug 31, 2013, 11:48 AM
mockmonkey (2,430 posts)
8. Ernie Kovacs
ODE TO A HOUSEFLY
Philosophical Ruminations on a Beastie in the Booze
Oh, hail to thee, tiny insect so small,
Swimming around in my bourbon highball.
Back-stroking, breast-stroking, movement of wing,
Now up on the ice cube, poor cold little thing.
If you stay there too long, you'll find with remorse,
Your ankles will numb and your buzz will get hoarse.
Catching cold is unpleasant for all little flies,
Bloodshot is gruesome for multiprism eyes.
Some people hate flies, take my old Cousin Sam,
He gets in a snit when you sit in his jam.
I've seen sister Sally turn red as a beet
When you walk on her nose with your six sticky feet.
When you walk on the ceiling, your brow seems to frown,
Does blood go to your head, when you stand upside down?
My optometrist friend, a dear boy named Rex,
Makes bifocals for flies - he calls them fly specs.
Now you're coughing because you are so full of trouble,
Or is it the bourbon that's making you bubble?
You should get off the ice, the temperature's minus,
You'll get frost in your navel and a wee touch of sinus.