IF THE HUMAN FLY WERE TRUE TO LIFE

If the human fly behaved true to life ...

He'd truly have eyes in the back of his head--and maybe the world's coolest shades. In the past some would've said he looks really fly. It wouldn't have mattered. The "fly girls" would still shoo him.

Whenever he thought of the movie Superfly or the title song he'd wish he was a super fly.

He'd eat and drink with his tongue.

During phone or cyber sex he'd tell women about his long, jack-hammering tongue.

Others may wonder why he never smiles. He can't. He has no lips--or teeth. Besides, smiling flies exist only in cartoon land. If you see a smiling fly you're either dreaming or really flying high.

"Buzz" would be his pass word, and he would always create a buzz.

In his lingo the old put down wouldn't be "Eat shit and die." It'd be "Eat shit and die happy."

He'd eat what most people wouldn't dare touch--shit, tossed food, rotting meat, corpses, carcasses. Later, he'd puke. No, he's not bulemic. He just happens to shit from his mouth and says, "Don't be mad because you can't do it." But he can't lick his fingers while eating as you can because he has no fingers. (So, ha-ha to him.)

If he got on a health trip it wouldn't be curds and whey for him. It'd be turds and whey.

When you fart his mouth would water.

For him fart would be just another word for "Dinner's almost ready."

For him diarrhea would be another word for buffet.

If you fart without shitting he'd suggest you get more fiber or take a laxative and not tease him like that. If you have diarrhea he'd beg you to keep it coming.

His eyes would have lit up the first time he heard pupu platter.

His breath would always stink.

He'd have terrible hygiene.

He'd never have guests, and no one would want any food or drink he offered.

He'd clean himself by rapidly bobbing his head while wiping his face with his crossed and hairy legs. (How strange.)

At night he'd go to whatever room is lit and dance wildly around the room and the lights until the lights were turned off.

He'd be an outcast: He'd be unwelcome at all social gatherings--barbecues, picnics, parties, etc.--and in restaurants. His eating and drinking with his tongue would embarrass whomever dined with him. He'd never be kissed or get laid. The only ones who'd desire his company are other flies and those who want him for dinner. For emotional support he would seek someone who gives a shit.

He'd never venture out at night.

He'd always hear "You need to shave."

He'd hang with similar losers (other flies), and they'd breed like there's no tomorrow.

His children would be as he once was: No one would find them cute or want to play with or babysit them.

He'd be terrified of lizards, frogs, toads, spiders, Venus flytraps, etc. and shudder whenever he heard or saw web address, SWAT team or raid.