Waiting To Die

Consider this: You’re facing death (total annihilation), its reflection is staring you in the face. In other words; you are about to enter into the after-life.

Meaning? You’re dead, no life.

So you frantically begin to look for a solution to your little problem when all of a sudden, this Jack Kevorkian type comes up to you holding the solution right in the palm of his hand.

Assisted suicide.

At first, you’re terrified of the idea, but that’ll only last until you go into a full blown panic! Now you start to scurry about looking for a possible way out. You look left, you look right, you look up, you look down, you look… totally miserable.

BUT YOU’RE A FLY ON MY WINDOW, so that comes natural.

That’s when fate steps up to lend you a hand and in this case its my hand, and its holding a rolled up magazine. That’s right, I’m your Doctor Kevorkian. I’m your doctor death—AND I’M PACKING.

Face it Mr Fly, you entered my home illegally.

Of course, your first instinct is to buzz around a lot and I can appreciate that—although, it’s totally irrational—but you’re a fly its what you do.

If it were me, I wouldn’t be a fly, and I certainly wouldn’t wanna be in your shoes right now. But your kind don’t wear shoes—so no worries there.

However, I still wouldn’t wanna find myself trapped against that glass door—BUZZING ALL ABOUT. That looks totally stupid—even more so if I were you.

But I’m not you, you’re Mr. Fly (or is it Mrs. Fly?) and you’re trapped against the glass door, my glass door, and now you are DOOMED!

Come to think of it, I’ve never really stopped to find out your exact sex. But, that’s likely because I’ve never had the time to dissect any of you guys afterwards.


Well they’ll be no autopsy for you today either (lucky you), because I hate cold dinners, and it would probably ruin my appetite anyway.

Besides, I don’t have any microscopic Pathology tools on hand—they’re currently on back order from Amazon.

But just you wait (well, not you per se), because when those tools of torture finally do arrive I’ll have a whole new career in front of me… that of… INSECT CORONER.

Second class, of course, after all I’m still a beginner.

It’s a course I’m taking from a big (FOR PROFIT) online college. Their school phamplet says it’s a growing field—probably because there’s plenty of you. So when I get finished with my (12 year) degree, I suspect I’ll be making a killing.

Which should help me pay off about a sixteenth of my new found student loan debt… before I die.

But I don’t have to explain any of this to you do I? No, because YOU, Mr or Mrs fly, you are going to be long gone by then b e c a u s e…  I’m… a b o u t… to… s m a s h… the living daylights out of…




“Well maybe I opened it because I was trying to figure out why my idiot husband was conducting a monologue with me through a sliding glass door? How was I suppose to know you were attempting to talk a fly to death.”


“Skills stupid, skills! Now go get a fly swatter—AND FINISH THE JOB!”







51 comments on “Waiting To Die

  1. Oh.. Dont worry. Today was his lucky day. Next time is smash time. Also next time look beyond the fly or hell dont waste time talking… Just do it.

    • You’re absolutely right, Hira. He may have escaped me this time but next time he’ll just become another rotting insect corpse laying on the track of my sliding door. That, or a disgusting looking blob marring my view of outside. And my wife say’s if he thinks he’s going to get another entertaining dissertation from me next time he’s in for a big surprise. She’s said this dissertation is as good as it gets. I think she means because I don’t rehearse—and I won’t next time either. So take that Mr or Mrs Fly! 😀

      • Now that am thinking again , I like your dissertations…..Please tell your wife I want to hear another entertaining dissertation .. Should I courier a lizard your way? or a little bit smaller perhaps- Ant , roaches..?

      • I’ll pass along your request, Hira. In fact, if you were to send along an ant or a roach, that I might show my wife your fervent desire that I deliver yet another Tony Robbins like treatise on flies and insects, and others of their ilk, I’m almost certain (and I can’t stress the word ALMOST enough) that she’ll think about letting me give another monologue. She might even buy me a podium from which I could deliver said discourse. But then I wouldn’t hold my breath—because she might let me turn blue. 😀

    • You’ve got that right, Juls’s. Ha… this was just a trial run. Just wait till next time. He’ll see me in action next time! Why I’ll be wearing a ninja suit and carrying a shuriken, a kaginawa, and a kusarigama, along with other numerous long Japanese words. Why he won’t stand a chance. 😀

    • One thing I can say for sure, not only does each fly come with two wings, but some of them have the face of Jeff Goldblum. I use to think before I became a fly coroner (second class), that all flies looked like David Hedison. Ally, I think I may have just made an amazing discovery. Our common houseflies have learned how to morph into male actors… even the female houseflies! You know, I think this new insect coroner gig is going to make me rich and famous.

  2. Damn Amazon for being late with those microscopic tools! They should totally give you a discount for customer satisfaction – you are, after all, a world-famous blogger that they wouldn’t want an unfavorable review on Google/Yelp and your blog, of course!

    • Sandi, you’re so right. How can they possibly expect me to work with such archaic medieval tools like regular size screwdrivers, hatchets, and a butter knife? Why it’s inhuman I tell you! The next thing you know, Amazon will be asking me to walk into one of their Whole Food stores to purchase a microscopic fly dissecting toolkit. Seems I’m not the only one with my fingers into everything. 😀

      • Oh, they are pretty-sneaky…forcing people to go into the new and improved Whole Foods so that you can be enticed by their entire LINE of microscopic-bug product! Simply called MICRO Before you know it, you’ll be signing up for their credit card to receive an extra 10% off because your basket will be full! Now…where are you going to hide all that stuff so your wife doesn’t see it?

      • Uh… uh… apparently I haven’t thought this whole thing through yet. I mean, I hadn’t considered that I might have to hide my highly priced—but very effective—top of the line fine surgical MICRO products in a secret location. But now that you mention it, there is just the outside chance (a very small one mind you… only about a 97% chance) that my wife won’t be pleased with my very expensive (but almost on sale) purchases. Maybe I could make room underneath my son’s bed—this in spite of the fact that it is completely filled up with 3-week old socks and underwear, plus some left-over dinner plates from a month ago. On the other hand, maybe she won’t go there—if I were smart I know I wouldn’t. 😀

    • Thank god! Thank you, Kate. It’s not every day an ordinary insect coroner house husband such as myself—with only a background in writing comedy—has an opportunity to catch the eye of the editor of the weekly rag, Flyswatter News. Or is it a daily rag, as I don’t have a subscription yet?) I’m just grateful they found me worthy of a column or two—or is it an entire spread? Does this come with financial compensation? Not that I need the coin—but is it substantial? Never mind, that’s alright if I wanted money I can go play the lottery. 😀

    • Ha, ha! Jan, you’ll be delighted to know that Amazon came through! My microscopic instruments of destruction were just delivered by drone. Unfortunately, the contents accidentally emptied out above me and are currently embedded in my skull. Not to worry though, as I’ve been told that due to the nature of their size (being as they’re miniature) I likely won’t require many stitches. So here’s my card “Have tools will travel.”

    • So they all thought they could escape me by booking a flight to the sunshine state, huh? Well, I’ve always fancied a trip to Florida… especially when it doesn’t cost me anything. Thank you, Elle. You obviously have booked me on the first flight out on Emirates—first class, no doubt. You realise, of course, that it goes to Florida by way of Dubai. It’s alright, though, the life of an insect coroner is not an easy one. I’ll get by somehow during the layover. Perhaps I’ll have to tolerate a four-night stay at the Burj Dubai. However, that’s a small price to pay if it means I’ll have a chance to rid the camels of Dubai of the buzzing of flies, but I promise you, I’ll catch next weeks flight back out to Florida. After all, we can’t have Mr and Mrs fly lounging about all over sunny Florida, taking in the sites—like Busch Gardens, Disney World, and Miami Beach—while I’m trudging about all over the Middle East eradicating their relatives. 😀

      • Thank you, Elle. Of course you know, every story I post is the truth. For example, the tale of the moon being made of cheese. Now I have it on good authority (a Guernsey I know in Wisconsin named, Bessie,) that after the first cow mission to the moon, back in 1458, that a farmer and his cow from Madison, Wisconsin (one Milrose by name), managed to plant a grow and entire crop of cheese on the moon overnight—it’s called Lunar Cheese. You see, the cows up there can only graze at night and sometimes they eat the lunar grass right down to the moon rock—this would explain why there are so many divots on the moon. Naturally, being a professional blogger (don’t try this at home) it’s my job only to report the facts.

    • Thank you, Mrs. Completely. Let me just say that I welcome the praise and that it didn’t fall on deaf ears—I happen to have a pair of working ones. That’s probably because I didn’t hear the praise but managed to read your wonderful comment here, and it brought a broad smile to my face. I think it compliments my LARGE red nose rather well don’t you think? But sincerely, thank you very much for choosing to follow my blog and the usual lunacy that accompanies it—and all without pay too! You wouldn’t happen to be rich would you? Not that I would stoop to asking for money—I usually have to stand on street corners. 😀

  3. Hahahaha! You cracked me up. I love that your whole conversation was OUT LOUD to a FLY! They do have a way of trespassing…
    Thanks for bringing this to the party! Have fun “meeting” the guests. There are quite a few new faces in the crowd!

  4. (sigh) – you never call or write anymore. My blog misses you and your witty response. Maybe I’ll have to be the next fly and come bother you some more. Just don’t kill me with your new tools. There have been a few posts, I was like, ohhhh Paul with have a field day with that one! And whatever I thought you’d comment on, you’d pick something else completely and surprise me. 🙂 Hope you are enjoying summer.

    • LOL! If only you hadn’t subscribed to call blocking. But as for why I haven’t written lately, I can only reason that my penmanship has suffered due to my excessive use of a keyboard—well that, and we’ve been moving into a new house while helping our oldest son and his wife in moving into their new house. It’s complicated as after they helped us move we felt compelled to help them fill their garage with numerous boxes as well, thus assuring them of the same fate we ourselves will be facing in the next year. We felt that since they wanted us to feel overwhelmed by the need to empty boxes in our garage that it was the least we could do for them. Still, I have been remiss in my reading, writing, and arithmetic (the bills are adding up) and therefore I should get back to doing what’s really important—that of producing and posting more award-winning posts on my blog while still managing to troll some of my favourite blogs. Not to worry sis… YOU MADE THE LIST TOO! 😀

      • Tit for tat … you know. You have boxes, they have boxes. We got boxes! A Dr. Sueuss book many people don’t know exists. ack! That reminds me, I’ve been procrastinating using this whole blogging as a distraction. (gasp) I have to get back to it….the boxes. They wait, with ugly scary faces, and wiggly things inside.

      • Sandi, are you sure that Sueuss book was on boxes and and not bubble-wrap? After all, when you are moving with boxes of cardboard stacked and stacked, there’s usually loads and loads of bubble-wrap. Bubbled-wrapped glasses, bubble-wrapped dishes, bubble-wrapped items all packed by the Mrs. Bubble-wrapped bikes and bubble-wrapped lids, why I even found bubble-wrapped kids! I tell you there was so much bubble-wrap stuffed in bin after bin, we began to think it might never end. But when we ran out—and the popping began—my wife showed up… holding more in her hands.

  5. Waiting to die…waiting for another post! I don’t care about your moving woes or plastic bubble wrap popping distraction. Your sister-n-blog needs another post.

    • It’s so funny you mention that, sis. Why at this very minute I have thousands of my people working on my very next post—unknowingly of course because I’ve been collecting them without their knowledge. However, none of them seems to have a clue about how to write a post about moving woes or bubble wrap distractions. Guess I should have secretly collected a mover and a specialist in bubble wrap popping. Oh well, I didnt particularly want to write about those subjects anyway.

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