(If you’ve never had a flea then hopefully you will forgive the intensity of this story…)
Ace had a long drive ahead of him. He left early in the morning. It was a twelve hour drive to Cincinnati.
He’d been driving for about three quarters of an hour since leaving home, and…
… was that a flea? Moving in his groin? He scratched.
Yeah. It was a flea. He kept on driving. He scratched again. The flea moved lower, sort of underneath his testicles. Where did he pick up a flea? he wondered.
Shit. It was driving him nuts. Come the next town he’d stop at a store. Fly spray was the answer. He’d simply squirt the thing to death. It moved to his dick. Wow! How the hell can you drive with crossed knees?
There’s a general store now! Ace parked on the side of the street. He bought a can of fly spray and returned to the car. The fucking flea was in his crack. It was having a field day. It was happy as Larry. It was glad as two pigs in shit. It was romping in clover. It was pleased as a dog with two dicks. It was balls in butter. It was biting his fucking arsehole.
Ace pull down his trousers and boxers and sprayed. He sprayed his backside. He sprayed his front side. Between his torso and thighs was a mound of white fly spray foam. He held his dick up by the tip and sprayed all sides. He stretched open his crack with one hand and sprayed like there was no tomorrow.
The group of youths on the street side of the car clapped. They thought it was great.
Ace gave them the finger and drove on. He scratched all the way to Cincinnati.
Sensually graphic without being pornographic…LOL!
(But I keep thinking of fly spray on human skin….I’ll bet that smarts….)
from another point of view: “There are intelligences, little suspected by the vulgar, and laws in nature, the very existence of which have not yet been detected by the advanced among the scientific world.—-“The Autobiography of a Flea,” chapter 1.
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Thanks, Cynthia, for the comment, and the quotation! There’s always that “fine line” that worries me – and I’m sure I lose readers in the process. I’m always aware of Pegeen Mike in Synge’s Playboy of the Western World: “There’s a great gap between a gallous story and a dirty deed.”
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I’m left wondering about Larry. Aside from that, I enjoyed the graphic energy of the language. And I do love a story that features boxer shorts. No literary allusions spring to mind, alas.
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I THINK “Happy as Larry” is an Australian-New Zealand expression… God knows who Larry is (or not)! I shall bear in mind your affinity for boxers!
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Oh for heaven’s sake! I’ll blame it on the Aussies.
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Crikey – that might get me in deep water!
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Over here that story would be about a tick rather than a flea! Little bastards that they are.
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LOL! Fleas have far more class!!
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I think the thing I have come to see in your stories, apart from there is often a death, is that most of your male protagonists aren’t very bright……. We have both in this story and I’m just hoping it wasn’t Larry!
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Now that’s funny, because I’m always trying to write about dumb males because I thought there were too many dumb females in the stories…! So I was trying to redress the balance. I guess it’s ended up with nearly everyone dead or dumb! As for the readers not being very bright… I’m always amazed at how only highly intelligent personages seem to be the only ones reading this blog!
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{{Curtseying and smirking}}
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Sorry – ‘Ace’ 🙂 Apparently some of your readers aren’t very bright either!!
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Not bright at all, for apparently we’re following a yarn spinning billy goat!
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It’s an old, and possibly more accurate, gravatar! And that’s my pet goat, Billy!
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We had a pet goat, also named Billy, when I was about twelve years old. We ate him.
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This one we got to eat but he cleaned up so much of a brambled bank that we kept him to be the great property tidy-upper. Now I love him too much. 🙂
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I watched as my mother slit his throat, then memory splices to a dish of blood red goat stew.
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We had to kill sheep and chickens ourselves as kids – else no dinner. But never blood red stew.
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And that’s how little Bruce learned to choke the chicken!
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I wrung the cock’s neck.
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How much did you enjoy watching it jerk and twitch about after you were done?
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(Oh dear… this is becoming a very unfamily-orientated moment.) The image of headless chicken springs to mind.
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That was a common and freaky sight in my childhood. Schoolmates would beg to come over and watch the headless fowl run about the backyard until all life drained out of it, as if…unplugged. Slowly dropping like a radio detached from it’s power source.
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Was this in CA? And a radio detached from it’s power source… you’re either very old or very well read!
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No. Just very poor. I listen to my favorite tunes on my eight-track player in my Vega Hatchback.
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A Vega Hatchback is way excellent… your profile doesn’t give anything away, but I have deduced from your education that you are a pharmacist at the very least. 🙂
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If by pharmacist you mean Meth Cook, then you’re way off!
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The Enigmatic Oscar. I shall have to start googlicating.
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Sorry. I ungoogked myself over five years ago.
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Oh googkled splotch. What a bothersome thing.
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Oh, great Scott so we are – I hadn’t noticed his profile pic before you pointed this out!
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I saw a headless chicken once, it took off, under the hedge into the wild field beyond and was never found. I guess we went to bed with no supper that night – I remain too traumatised to remember!
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It is rather excitingly awful.
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That sums it up, Pauline. No one has ever taken any notice before of my profile pic. Post a goat and they all notice.
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Hmmm,,,boxers not briefs. The guy must be nuts – fly spray? No wonder he itched all the way Cincinnati! Laughed out loud!
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LOL. Nuts indeed!
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“Sleep with a dog and you’ll wake up with fleas!”
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Sleep with a flea and you’ll wake up dog tired!
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Sleep dog-tired and you’ll wake up fleeing the bed.
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A flea in the hand is worth two in the bush.
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Why would you to a pair of fleas in your bush? Wasn’t that the whole point if your tale?
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Shh! (My tail hasn’t had a point for years)
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Hysterically rolling on the floor laughing! Yes, I had to spell that out completely!
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You and me both my friend, you and me both. 😜
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LOL! Well, not really LOL . More 😦
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Yes, LOL, since Pauline’s FIRST comment onward. Laughing like a Billy Connolly audience. Goodness. I do like your goat, and am glad you aren’t going to eat him.
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Thank you for both the comment and for liking the goat. It’s good to have a sensible comment from a sensitive soul! 😀
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Only one flea?
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It’s very hard to tell – and at my age it’s often too hard to bend down low enough to look!
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🙂
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Call the exterminator! the car is infested 😉
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It’s been sprayed. It’s ok!
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Are the fleas on Harry like crabs?
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I’ve had many a flea, but never a …
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Glad you cleared that up for me.
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Ain’t I happy he made it to Cincinnati rather than the Pearly Gates!
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Drive on, and scratch, dear friend!
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