Living in a vacuum
I have nothing against insects and creepy crawlies.
Except of course when they bug me.
For some reason, I was plagued with flies for the first few days in France. It was nothing to do with personal hygiene because I had had a shower the previous month.
I armed myself with a can of weapons-grade flyspray and sat here creating havoc in the fly population.
I didn’t give a shit if their mammys and daddys love them.
I didn’t give a shit if they had a family of five hundred little darlings waiting for them to come home from a day’s work.
If they came near me, they got a blast of biological and chemical warfare.
They made my job easy, because they are so fucking stupid.
When you swat a wasp, it buggers off somewhere else. When you kick a dog, it sulks off and won’t talk to you again. When you swat at a fly, it immediately returns to the scene of the crime. This is what I hate the most about them. If one tickles your arm, you swat at it and it immediately returns to the same spot.
In the theatre of war, however, this is an advantage. I spray ’em, and they piss off. But they come straight back to where the cloud of gas still lingers.
Their only weapon of defence was reproduction. The little fuckers [and I use the adjective deliberately] were treating my knees as some kind of bordello and insisted on copulating there. This was one of my main areas of attack. My spray can was an artificial form of coitus interruptus.
They sent an small group of twenty. They were waving white flags and pleading for amnesty.
I sprayed the bastards.
Fuck the Geneva Convention.
Then of course there were the spiders.
I have nothing against spiders, but unfortunately Herself has. The house was inundated with those spindly ones – the ones that look like a small pea standing on eight bent hairs.
I could have gone around killing them, but that would have been cruel. Or I could have put them outside one by one, but they appeared faster than I could put them out. So – and I am using the Nuremberg Defence here – I sucked them up with a vacuum cleaner. I told myself that they had a fighting chance as it was one of those new-fangled Dyson lookalikes.
As I went around sucking them off the walls and ceilings, I wondered what kind of conversation was going on in the dust bag? …………
‘JEEEZUS!! FUCK!!! WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED THERE!!!!’
‘Howya Bill. I dunno what happened, but it just happened to me too.’
‘Oh! Hi, Fred. I was having a quiet morning doze on the ceiling when this huge noisy wind thing came at me, and the next thing I know – I’m in here.’
‘Most of the gang are in here. Poor old Jason over there hasn’t a leg to stand on. They all got sucked off in the wind. LOOK OUT! Here comes the Murphy family. Hi John! Hi Mavis!’
‘What is this place? It’s kinda dusty in here?’
‘I noticed that. It’s kind of crowded too.’
‘What do we do now?’
‘I don’t know. I’m going back to sleep.’
Two or three days later, I decided to empty the vacuum cleaner. I took the dust container off and had a look inside.
Do you remember the film ‘Alien’?
Do you remember John Hurt lying there with his chest heaving with live things inside?
It was like that.
The container had a good fill of dust, and it was pulsating. It was quite hypnotic to watch. To be on the safe side, I brought it down the garden and stuck my hand into the dust.
Underneath the top layer, all my little victims were having a party. Dozens of them.
I let them go and they all scurried away.
At least they will have a good story for the grandchildren.
‘stuck my hand into the dust’
I can’t believe you did that…….you are brave Grandad!!!
I even felt sorry for Jason until that bit!
I could almost be happy we had those downpours and floods that carried away a fair number of beasties…
Ew ew ew. I think you might have stumbled upon the French cousins of Manuel’s Spiderbastard!! *shudders*
There was nothing wrong with plunging my hand into the dust? I just thought of them as peas on hairs.
I think you should make the Marketing people in Dyson aware of this. They could go as far as making their dustbags creepy-crawly-friendly. With a magnified viewing window to amuse the kids.
Jeysus man gimme your postal address and I’ll send you some Aerogard, in the meantime learn the Australian ‘wave’
Spahetti – Actually, it wasn’t a Dyson. I’m not sure what make it was, but it was a bagless ‘tornado’ type. But from now on I’ll be using the Dyson on the spiders here in the Manor. 😉
Baino – *sigh* I had to Google both of them! I had my can of chemical warfare, but they were tough little buggers. As for the Australian Wave – if I had tried that, I probably would have flown away….
You should try lighting some incense sticks – the bugs hate em!
Where about’s in France are you anyway?
Welcome IPP! I see you are there now. Herself tried stinky things but they didn’t work. We were in Perigord. Know of any nice properties for sale there? 😉
[And thanks for the write-up!!]
A well deserved write up!
Perigord – nice spot – did you get to see the famous cave paintings?
Don’t know of any properties in Perigord – further south maybe!
Anyhow au revoir pour maintenant as I’m heading for a walk up a volcano.
I did something very similar once. I returned home after a weekend away and flicked on the sitting room light to watch the walls come alive with Daddy long legs. I’d left the kitchen window open and upset them all with the light.
After a day or two I finally got the courage to go back to the vacuum after my triumphant victory with the help of Mr Hoover, opened the bag and counted 752 Daddy long legs.
Now I open and close windows like I’ve severe OCD before I go anywhere.
folks, I had a perfectly witty and charming banter comment written in here, great stuff altogether. Then I press send without entering my name in the name box, wordpress gets all upset and sends me back here minus my witty banter. Oooh, technology! What’s an Australian Wave? I’m having a cold war with technology now so I’m refusing to google it.
“A well deserved write up!”
“Perigord – nice spot – did you get to see the famous cave paintings?”
On one of my previous visits.
“Don’t know of any properties in Perigord – further south maybe!”
Nothing in the Perigord Noir at all at all?
“Anyhow au revoir pour maintenant as I’m heading for a walk up a volcano.”
Maxi – I didn’t count mine. Never count your spiders after they have hatched.
Hi Charmed! An Australian Wave is swatting flies away from your face. Let’s hear the perfectly witty and charming banter comment….
GD, I know a sure way to keep flies at bay, and it really works. Don’t know if you ever read this entry, but give it a shot – http://rhodester.net/dont-be-a-fly-or-a-walleyed-pike
“There was nothing wrong with plunging my hand into the dust? I just thought of them as peas on hairs.”
What exactly is a peas on hairs? What is that Gaelic for I stuck my hand into something nasty???
Well, what a lovely surprise Grandad! I’m glad you love bugs as much as I do! My computer was down for four days and I missed out on my morning laugh, only to have a whole string of posts to make me have a great laugh this morning. Keep it coming – it’s medicine for the soul! 🙂
RhodesTer – The thought of hanging plastic bags full of water around a house is a little off-beat even for me?! It might have worked though?
Michelle – Take a small dried pea. Glue eight hairs onto it. You now have something resembling my little friends. As for the Irish bit – it’s too late for that. I’m still struggling with English.
Tricia – Maybe you should kill your computer more often? Welcome back!
Dyson lookalikes? Was there no real Dyson around?