Squeaky Sneaker

Strange the things you do, when you've got a spare minute. You're sitting there, possibly baby sitting the kids on a Saturday night, and you think ' I'm going to make a bicycle, for a fly'. And you get up, you find some pipe cleaner and you fashion an inch long cycle, lovingly painting the wheels with a thin topped paint brush, even making a seat for the fucker. Even making a stand for it, so that the fly doesn't tip over!

Only one problem - how do you make the fly stay on the bike?

Well, you're going to have to kill it, aren't you? Little bleeder is never going to sit still. You've made a mini bicycle for a fly, but the fly doesn't want to ride it. It's not even about whether he wants to or not, the fly has no concept of what a bike is. How could he possibly decide if he desires a bike, or if he'd rather eat a bit of pooh then secrete it on someone's food? He can't be expected to want or not want a bike at all, but you're still going to have to kill him, because now you've made the bike and you want to put a fly on the bike, probably with a pin or a bit of blue tac. It would all be waste of a Saturday night otherwise. You, alone in the house but for the sleeping children, sitting at the dining room table, scissors, pipe cleaners, tiny fucking bike. What was it all for?? Has your life come to this??

So the fly will die, on your whim, and nothing will change. You've got a dead fly, on a miniature bike, on your carpet and you've taken a picture of it and now you've posted it on a blog and told people that this is what you get up to on a Saturday night.

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