Is the title to this piece just some hopeless attempt at journalistic hyperbole in the name of attention, at any price?

You know what I mean, those headlines that promise the prince, but deliver the pauper!

As the object of this piece of prose, I can only say that, “I wish it was so, alas.”

Okay, the die thing is a little bit over the top, but as for the beginning, have I got a tale to tell you!

You see, with intentions well and truly honorable, I was intending this post to be the next in the series to end all series, OK, so that statement is an attempt at hopeless hyperbole, but I think I have earned some grace at the minute (a little play on contradicting concepts to naval gaze on).

Here is my account, hot off my press, the unedited version, for those who are a little squeamish, travel with caution, slippery when wet (this will all make sense in time)!

This afternoon, Palmerston North time, I was going about my business, as you do, consulting with my fixer, about the machinations of my blog site.  We were unleashing our fair amount of dribble, back and forth… To be honest, there was more “forth than back” coming from the mouth of Jonny King.

Making my way to the bedroom, I lay on the my bed to continue the conversation (no mental pictures) in relative peace.  Needless to say, my jaw was still in full swing as all matter of verbose diatribe was making its way across town.

Then all of a sudden, our conversation, or more correctly, my conversation came to a rather choking abruption (I believe I just made that word up).

Let me explain!

As I was opening my mouth, doing my best to navigate the always tricky “breathing in while talking maneuver,” a fly, yes, this is no typo, a fly, flew into the opened orafice that was my mouth.

Now I could not have planned this any better if I tried… I can assure you, this has not been on one of my to-do-lists.  As I opened my mouth to catch my next breath on the fly (no, not the buzzing type, context), in flew the aforementioned protagonist.

However, because I was inhaling at the precise moment of its entry, the fly thinking (the author has played fast and loose here in giving the fly such self-awareness) it was entering some black hole vortex, was sucked mercilessly straight down my throat… I kid you not!

Exclaiming, “I think I have swallowed a fly,” to my fixer, whilst trying to clear my throat, I hear on the other end of the phone, such mockery, in the words of the infamous school assembly song, “I know an old lady who swallowed a fly, I guess she’ll die (or words to that effect).”

Trying to regain my composure, and ending our conversation, I did my utmost to clear the vermin from my insides.

Now the full ramifications were buzzing (sad!) through my mind as I passed this news onto the family, only to hear them break into the same sadistic refrain that had so amused my fixer.

Entering the bathroom, and shoving two digits down my throat, I did my best to induce “life from the stomach” for Mr Fly, but with no such joy (this is a disingenuous comment).

The wife, wisely attempting to pander my ego, encouragingly placed me in the tradition of “men gone wild,” spoke of heroic adventurers who have digested far worse in the pursuit of stupidity, I mean, the conquering of the unconquerable (it was the best I could do on the fly [wait there's more where this came from])).

Note to reader: At this point, I was still feeling rather squeamish in the upper part of my stomach.

In response to the wife’s encouragement, I digested some Pepsi, for medicinal purposes, of course, because surely that is going to help!

Then, all of a sudden, “fire in the hole.”

I quickly began to make my way to the bathroom, with feelings that I soon would be proclaiming to the porcelain…. and, you guessed it, I broke forth into joy, this was truly a charismatic moment, as Pepsi and other unmentionables came bursting forth, O for the joy of a multitude of mental pictures for the reader!

However, the fun was not over, along with the pulsating Pepsi, and the… well, you know, came…  THE FLY, alive and still buzzing, well, moving at the very least.

Now I know what you’re thinking, so as to document my little extra-terrestrial-like experience, I pulled out my trusty handy cam to document the trauma.  I know what you’re thinking, GROSS ME OUT TO THE MAX DUDE (sorry, reliving 1984)!

After recovering from the experience, I decided to call my fixer back, after all, one needs to settle those who have been exposed to such events.

Calling my fixer I informed him of the developments.

He, on the other hand, thought it was rather appropriate to use this moment of weakness to fill his humour quotient, informing me that “maybe if my mouth was not open so much (or words to that effect)..,” you get the picture.

However, not resting on his laurels, he also shamelessly encouraged me to put the video of this fly on Youtube, or should it be You-spew, in my case.

After all, what would the animal rights fraternity think of such cold-hearted skullduggery?

He reckons this will get plenty of hits for the blog.. like it needs it!

You’re right, maybe its more of a, “don’t look a gift fly in the mouth,” you’ re right again, that was a bridge too far!

Time will tell if I sink to this level, but I am, at the very least, glad to be able to live to tell the tale.

The God of Providence, aye, something to tell the grand kids about, or maybe not!

This is Jonny King, alive and buzzing, I mean, Kicking!

Until Next Time

I came, I saw, I chundered… sucker. You were no match for my intestines (I don’t get out often)!