Monday, 28 July 2008

Botting

















Summer is good.

I love it when it’s warm and you can relax in a beer garden and think thank God winter is over. The only real draw back, apart from scallies and fat people taking their tops off, are insects. They get well excited in summer.

Last week I walked into my room to find five blue bottles milling around on my window. I thought it was pretty weird to see five in one spot. Two or three maybe, but five? Something was wrong. I decided to act quickly and proceeded to shoo them out with a copy of Johnny Cash’s autobiography, like some upset old woman.

Well not all of them. I killed one and left him on the windowsill as an example to his friends. I saw the Vietcong do this in a film and thought it was a good idea.

I thought that would have done the trick and the bluebots would have got the message or at the very least their morale would be sapped. I was wrong.

The next day I came home to find six blue bottles on my window – I thought I was in a Hitchcock film. This time I went postal and splatted four of them with the fiction copy of Vice, which was left in a right state. The girl from the American Apparel ad even got some in the mush.

I started to think of reasons why this kept happening. Then my flatmate pointed out the big vent in my ceiling.I checked it out but there was nothing in there. Then we realised we hadn’t put the bin (which is directly below my bedroom window) out in three weeks and it had become a perfect breeding ground for bluebots. There was loads of them round the back of the house. The only thing I could do was close the window and wait for them to go away.

The whole sorry episode reminded me of a story I heard about Dj Scotch Egg. Apparently he used to couch surf round people’s houses and order Chinese takeaways every night. Instead of throwing away the tin foil packaging they came in, he just stock piled them until they looked like a model of some futuristic office block. Obviously the flies loved this and started swarming around the tower. But instead of throwing the horrible rank tower away, Dj Scotch Egg bought an electronic fly swat and proceeded to wage war against the flies. Apparently he won.

I’ve been on edge ever since and I decided to leave the dead flies up there. Partly to warn off the flies in case they return and partly out of respect for Dj Scotch Egg’s bravery in battle.

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