More Filth
One of these delightful fellows, at least one inch in length, accompanied me on my bus journey to visit my brother today. In acts of disgusting fly-gymnastics, it spent a full hour ridding itself of whatever putrefaction it had been picking up in the local toilet or garbage dump. It sat there, three inches from my arm, scraping and scratching the dirt from its legs and wings kich-kich-kich-kich-kich. I watched this large bastard fly with fascination and revulsion for the entire journey, not even glancing at my book of cultural theory according to Adorno (AREN'T I THE INTELLECT? ACTUALLY NO, SEEING'S HOW I'D RATHER WATCH FLIES). The most amazing thing that it did was reach its back legs up onto its wings and scratch them, bending them right in half. I don't even know how to describe it. Every so often I would become aware of how demented I must have looked to the other passengers, who could not see the monster. Once every six or seven minutes, I would note my grimace and pull my face back into normal, peaceful mode. After two or three seconds more of watching fly gymnastics, however, the look of disgust would slowly creep up my neck and strangle my face once more.
Thoughts of this nauseating creature have haunted me all day.
SECOND WORRY
Would you let your baby be breast fed by some chick who wasn't its mother? Nannies who do this are called wet nurses. I forced K to engage me in a debate on why we are revulsed by this prospect. WELL? ANSWER ME, YOU CONDITIONED INDOCTRINATED BUFFOONS. Buffoons! What a fabulous word. Now go get some milk from a nice lady.
WORRY NUMERO THREE-O
Are you there God? It's me, neuro-praxis. SORRY KID, I'M HAVING A PEDICURE.
...There are no real worries. Used Christmas crackers for those of you who got the Judy reference! Today was a day for BREAKING YOUR SPECTACLES WHILE REMOVING THEM FROM YOUR FACE. Ok there neuro. Let's try taking things a little easier from now on. Today was a day for angry Australian ladies who shout and smoke profusely and live with your brother. And lastly, but not leastly, today was a day for catching in the rye.
WELL. The good news is that the word on the grapevine is that I got a first in my English thesis, boys and girls.
neuro-praxis -- She So Fly
Posted by neuro-praxis on February 16, 2005 12:46 AM, in the category Children, Pets, Guests
Sometimes I wonder if I even exist. If I didn't, THEN I'd be insane.
Posted by: God at February 16, 2005 02:38 PMAnd these wet nurses. Are they available for hire?
Posted by: hmmm at February 16, 2005 09:52 PMHey Neuro, ever wondered what your site would look like to someone with red/green colour-blindness? Check this out:
http://vischeck.homeip.net/uploads/11086397436163/
(I like it!)
tg
Posted by: teragram at February 17, 2005 11:30 AMDear Neuro,
I really enjoy your writing! I have posted a link on my blog, with a sample of your prose, particularly for readers who have the sniffles too!
-Greg
Posted by: Greg Finnegan at February 17, 2005 07:36 PMWow. Sweet. I'm chuffed. Thanks Greg.
Posted by: neuro-praxis at February 18, 2005 01:09 AMGod: I love you, dude.
hmmmm: This is the internet. Everything is available for hire my good man.
teragram: green is good. BUT NOT GOOD ENOUGH.
Posted by: neuro-praxis at February 18, 2005 01:15 AMAww, shucks. Keep up the good work, kid.
Posted by: God at February 18, 2005 06:20 PM