Flies!

[rebness]

Arrgh! The suckiest thing about the British summer is the flies/wasps/other flying gits. You can rest assured that most of the summer will be blanketed in dark grey clouds (as the sky is now), but the chilly rain and miserable temperatures won't be enough to stop an influx of mosquitoes dining on prime British blood.

I was just sitting here minding my own business when a great big flying blob hurled itself at me. The fly, for that it was, buzzed maniacally and darted around the room, trying to land on my food, but, more alarming, my skin so that it could wipe all that crap it had collected all over me.

Out came the hairspray! Yes, people. Hairspray, as zhonghua2000 will agree, is the weapon of choice when it comes to flies. It sticks their wings together and means a quick twatting, as opposed to you choking on fly spray. I chased it around the room, screeching and jumping on and off the bed as it kept flying straight at me, then coated it in spray at the window. Ahahaha. Fly: 0 Becky: 1.

I really, really hate flies. They disgust me. An idle Google search tells me that there are 1,450 instances of "I hate flies" on the interwebs. A similar search for "I hate spiders" yields 15,200 results.

Now, I'm an arachnophobe. A spider is enough to send me shrieking out of the room, but really? Some filthy thing that wallows in excrement before vomiting over your food, that spreads diseases in some countries versus a Scary Thing With Too Many Eyes and Legs. It doesn't make sense, though I can tell you I'd be too terrified to face a spider even with the hairspray o'd00m.

Comments

[rebness.livejournal.com]

I haven't yet found a good way to get rid of spiders. A friend of mine actually collects them and pits them against each other in a deathmatch. I just rely on the clothes-shredding cat. Dicing and slicing sounds most excellent though.

Ah, Observer. That's fine by me.

[dreamlifeof.livejournal.com]

Dice, slice, then may I recommend a little sauteeing in a white wine sauce? Uncover, sprinkle with a little coriander and serve.

I used to have a black gentleman caller of the feline persuasion who, Paul McCartney would be pleased to know, came in through the bathroom window. I once saw him pounce on and devour a house spider, but the sight of a crumpled leg or two sticking out of his furry mouth is a horrid memory.

Spider death match. I was thinking a great reality TV show idea they haven't exploited yet would be Celebrity Slave Trade. You work out the details.

[rebness.livejournal.com]

I once saw him pounce on and devour a house spider, but the sight of a crumpled leg or two sticking out of his furry mouth is a horrid memory

*Shudder*