Listen, I had some flies in the house.
I had a party, it was nice having the doors open, some flies got in, and they apparently set up shop.
You can’t just wait them out. They live like a month. Too long. Not to mention I gotta imagine they were having fly sex in their sweet new pad and kicking out more flies. I’m not a scientist but I did see a few humping.
Fly extermination day had come.
I wanted to try some old timey technique at first. I had just had some luck scrubbing bugs off the grill of a truck with baking soda so I was pretty hot on a use-less-chemicals scene. I also think how much plastic we use is out of control. I’m on an all-glass tupperware thing and I’m saving my glass jars for re-use and stuff. Basically a hero over here.
The old timey technique is apple cider vinegar, dish soap, and sugar in a bowl and you leave it there and somehow flies land in it and die.
That’s bullshit. I might as well have tried singing them a song. Zero flies caught.
So I swing the other direction and buy this exotic fly trapping house thing where you put chemicals in the bottom of it and it lures them in or whatever and kills them. Notice I immediately abandoned my less-chemicals morals at the slightest failure. I’ll have to ask my therapist what that says about me, even though I already know: my convictions are weak.
So I baby bear this thing.
Flyswatter.
Flyswatters are fricking amazing. You can’t do it with your hands. If you’re mad enough you can do it with your baseball cap. But hands? It’s not happening. I’m not Daniel LaRusso over here ripping flies out the air with chopsticks. But a flyswatter makes me an instant Mr. Miyagi. A flyswatter makes you a fly mascaraing machine. They are also like 99 cents.
