…and he has been that way for a very long time. He sits in the windowsill of my exercise room and for some reason I don’t have the heart to throw him away. He intrigues me; he was just walking along one day then bam, dead. Seems like bugs don’t normally die like that. I think they are usually burned by little kids, smashed, eaten by Martha Stewart or frozen to death — this one just walks along and has a heart attack or something. I wonder what was wrong with him. Anyway, I named him Frank and he is my pal. I think I will make him a little backpack and a walking stick so he looks like he is hiking. It is funny how he just stays the same — if he were a dead mouse that would be disgusting, but he isn’t rotting or anything so it is okay. I walk in the room and say, “Hi Frank!” — he doesn’t say anything back because he is dead. I know he can’t help it so I am okay with it. I wonder how long he will stay there. I should invite a bird inside to see if it would eat him. I wonder what he was thinking about when he died? I bet it was about Melba toast, because if I were a bug, a gigantic piece of Melba toast would blow my fucking mind. Or maybe he was just a bit too stupid and forgot how to breathe. I hope not, because I couldn’t respect something that couldn’t muster up the mental power to suck in some air. Come to think of it, I kind of hate him and am going to flush him down the toilet.
Posted by: Mike Ring | October 1, 2009
this bug is dead…
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