Why?

Why is there always a fly in my glass of water?

No, seriously. Why?

At least the flies aren't crawling up inside my eyeballs. That exact situation happened a while back, and it was a most unpleasant experience. Let me tell you about it.

First of all, I have no clue as to how the flies ended up behind my eyeballs. They just did, ok?

So these flies behind my eyeballs were a problem. My dog and I brainstormed for solutions. We decided that he needed to crawl into my ear with a waterbottle and flashlight and attempt to flush out the flies from my eyeballs. Granted, it was a risky idea, considering the fact that neither my dog nor me are familiar with human anatomy, but we said what the hey, let's quickly check out the Artist's Guide to Anatomy and give this thing a shot.

Before starting this endeavor, I turned on the radio and set it to NPR. It was my dog who wanted to listen to NPR, he said it helps him concentrate.

So my dog crawled and squished himself up into my ear and into my head. How did he find the courage? I don't know, he's a eff'n hero and he eats his frosty flakes, that's all I know. Then, with unparalleled agility and surgical precision he managed to find the flies behind my eyeballs and he washed them out with water from his bottle. I was happy to be rid of those symbols of death.

Thankfully, due to my dog's extreme dexterity, I survived this episode without any serious damage to my eyeballs. And I was back to my carefree self again! I felt free, free like a bird, and with this sense of regained freedom I resumed my favorite hobbies: frolicking and rolling around in mud; breaking dinner plates and porcelain wares with my favorite hammer; nailing thousands upon thousands of nails in beautiful arabesque patterns all over my neighbor's bedroom (sometimes I house-sit on weekends); putting on African masks and reading The Odyssey in the original Dutch while the rabbits from my yard eat chocolate bunny rabbits and dance around me chanting about the end of the world (the rabbits tell me the act of eating the chocolate bunnies is symbolic, of what, I still don't know). I also resumed my habit of burying my friends' Ipods and other expensive electronic equipment in my backyard. I don't know why I have that habit, but it helps me relax, and you know what, who cares about the why so long as something is enjoyable and relaxing.

In real news... Someone told me about this commercial they saw, something about a talking squirrel and Abraham Lincoln. I felt like telling them that I too talked to squirrels, I've never spoken to Abraham Lincoln though, but definitely had serious intellectual debates with these squirrels in my yard. A subject we particularly enjoy discussing is the history of land ownership and its socio-economic impacts. The squirrels say property rights are the foundation of capitalism. I think it's chocolate. Anyways, those squirrels have amazing analytical skills, I think they made a pact with the devil, in exchange for their souls they were given reasoning skills and 20 kilos of heroin. Good deal.