It’s be honest time. Er, rather, as honest as a bastard like me can be. I don’t have anything enlightening to say, though to be fair, if you’ve read more than one post you know that by now. And frankly, if for some reason you stumbled upon this blog to help you with your search marketing plan, if you haven’t figured it out yet, you’re totally fucked.
So, why bother writing, and why bother writing now?
I have no fucking idea. I’m out of gin, for starters, and am sick of beer (I don’t even know how the hell that happens, but it has. Wonders never cease!), rather, sick of beer for now. Maybe it has to do with the combination of insomnia and lack of liquor (LOL, as I call it), but there was almost a compulsion to share something useful.
Before you start jumping my shit, I never said I didn’t have anything useful; I just don’t have anything enlightening. Pay more attention.
Anyways, so I bought some organic fruit. Again, why I was buying fruit and not gin, and organic fruit to boot, is way the hell beyond me. I figured maybe I’ll listen to all those hippies or something and help Mother Earth or Gaia or whatever the hell they call this rock these days. Lord knows it wasn’t for my health, so I won’t even pretend I was trying to be healthy or some unbelievable crap like that. But as I was saying, I bought me some organic fruit and now my house is damn infested with fruit flies. Seriously, it’s not a plague of Biblical proportions, but those little red-eyed motherfuckers are annoying. That’s what you get for not buying shit sprayed with DDT like they do in Mexico.
Now, I don’t know the best way to get rid of those little fuckers, but I do know of a highly effective way of getting rid of them that actually involves drinking and theft.
First, you quit being a cheap ass and pony up a few bucks and buy a case of bottled beer. Something fancy and classy, like Miller High Life or PBR bottles or something. Sure, you could use canned beer, but trust me, you’ll want the bottles.
Next, you drink all of the beer. All of it. Maybe only some of it. Just drink beer is my point.
After getting good and beered-up, you sneak over to your neighbor’s house (well, sneak as much as you can after polishing off a half-rack of tall boys while watching Pawn Stars), and, assuming they’re fancy people, liberate a bottle of their oldest red wine. If you’re neighbor isn’t fancy, like mine wasn’t, you may have to keep checking down the road until you find one. I don’t know why, but the more expensive the wine, the more effective the fruit fly bait it is.
Now, drink a few more beers while carefully pouring a little bit of red wine into each of your beer bottles, thus turning them into fruit fly traps. Place a trap wherever you see those little fuckers. And be glad that you didn’t end up drinking all of the beer after all.
With the fruit fly traps set, you can now pass out. If you haven’t passed out, but are out of beer, eat a few Advil and a glass of water.
In the light of midday, or whenever you roll your lazy ass out of bed, the reasons for using beer bottles, and not cans will become obvious. First, if you’re searching for a little skunked beer to work as your hair of the dog, you’ll be able to judiciously choose which bottle you’ll want to drink from. Next, and more importantly, a see-through bottle will allow you to delight in those little drunk bastards drowning in a wino’s nirvana. You may think to yourself, “Oh, that’s so cruel! They’re just little flies!”, but after living with the little fuckers for a week getting into shit that isn’t even fruit, you’ll be glad to see their little drowned asses in the bottom of that beer bottle.
Hmm. The being sick of beer bit is making more sense.
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