This is one of those helpful little around-the-house posts that belongs on MPSIMS, except the theme could cause some PETA-type to get a raging case of the whim-whams, so I’m posting it here, where people understand torture and grisly, untimely death.
The wet, warm Spring in the Chicago area was supposed to result in record numbers of mosquitos. This may be true outside of my yard, but I have few mosquitos. Their niche, as annoying biting insects, has been filled by ferocious flies by the dozens.
We clean up after the dogs a couple of times a day and the garbage service has given everybody new cans that seal well. I’m fairly sure there isn’t a portal to Hell nearby, but one can never be too sure. I don’t know where they are all coming from; I’m blaming the neighbors.
The flies keep coming. Green bottle flies, common house flies, even little, tiny, black flies I’ve never seen before. I have gotten sick of them and their filthy ways and am striking back: I bought a fly trap. This is a plastic bag with a conical opening on top. It comes with “attractant,” which looks like a pale turd. You fill the bag halfway with water, the turd crumbles, the whole thing starts to ferment. It doesn’t smell that bad to humans, but you should keep it ventilated some.
Flies crawl in looking for a tasty meal, but cannot figure out how to get out. They fly around, licking condensation and looking for an exit, and never realize that they’d be out in a jiffy if they’d just go out the way they came in. Eventually, they tire and fall into the water. Here’s the best part: one of the most effective fly baits is dead flies! The little bastards just keep rebaiting the trap! And you are not killing them; they are killing themselves with their stupidity. You only provide the means.
Trapping flies is full of high drama and life-or-death struggle, as you watch a fly crawl around the entrance, tentatively starting down the cone, only to chicken out and crawl out. “It looks fishy,” the fly says, “but it smells delicious. And look–all of my friends are in there!” Eventually, they succumb to temptation and crawl the rest of the way.
The bag is clear, so you can watch as the flies blunder around inside. If you bump the bag the live flies start buzzing in annoyance, as if you’re interrupting their party, which adds an audio to the visuals. But by nightfall all is quiet. When the bag is full you close it up and drop it in the garbage.
Not all flies are dumb enough for traps, or I’m just impatient, so I bought a flyswatter. They just love the top of the garbage can, especially since it now looks, and probably smells, like a windshield after a trip through Iowa. It is especially rewarding when I nail a couple screwing. Divine retribution right out of a televangelist’s wildest sermon or Son of Sam’s boyhood.
My cleanup crew, the ants, now worship me as their god, since the flies I swat land at the ants’ feet like manna. Protein gets recycled and the circle of life goes around.
I am not really sadistic. Flies are filthy vermin that spread disease. Killing a pair mating prevents new generations of flies, followed by more generations until there are more flies than the number of atoms in the known universe. Therefore, I am performing a public service. And they bite me, so they deserve to die.