Tuesday 3 August 1999
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Pic of the day: Mattress in the living room. Last night I slept on the guest mattress in the living room. And this was not because I had farted in the bedroom, either. No, something more sinister was afoot, or perhaps a-wing. There was a FLY in my bedroom. Yes, a real, occasionally buzzing, potentially bloodthirsty fly. I had read a bit in A man Rides Through (by Stephen Donaldson) and suddenly it was 3 in the night and I was very tired. As I turned off the light and headed for the bedroom, however, the fly suddenly took wing from its hiding place behind the curtains. Buzzing by my head, it continued in front of me and turned sharply right into my bedroom. I did not want to harm the fly, so I tried to entice it by turning on bright lights in other rooms and turning off the light in my bedroom. But the creature was not fooled. It knew that I was going to sleep there, and it would be able to dine on me at will, quite possibly killing me in the process. But what did it care? If I were to give my blood so that it could live, too bad for me. Perhaps it would in retrospect revere me for my sacrifice, or even worship me as an incarnation of the Lord of the Flies. But it would not spare me, of this I felt certain. As negotiations failed, threats of violence ensued. I armed myself with a leather glove, and started to chase the fly around. It did not leave the room, though. Finally it tired - and with a desperate maneuvre it disappeared from sight. I was unable to find it, but after a few minutes of rest it reappeared from my wardrobe and started patroling the bedroom again. Gradually the truth dawned on me. I did not want to hurt a fly. But it was beyond my pious wishes now. It was the fly or me. Climbing up on the bed, I launched a last desperate attack on the stronghold of the fly. Something hit my left arm, and as I jumped from the surprise touch, a small body fell out of sight. I searched the bed carefully and the bedclothes, but there was no sign of a body. I sifted through the stack of clothes beside the bed. But the fly was nowhere to be found. Was it still alive somewhere there? Was it hiding in my bed, plotting a revenge that would make my recent infected tick bite look like a friendly joke? No one could say. Apalled by these prospects, I went and fetched the guest mattress from the dusty passage in which it was stored. I already had a spare pillow, and the cape of PowerUser would serve as a sheet. I closed the door to the bedroom, and to the room inbetween too. Feeling safe at last, I fell into a restless slumber. That is my story, and I stick with it!
This is not to say, of course, that I might not move my bed into the
living room permanently, set my camera to take grainy pictures every
other minute all through the night and call it MagnusCam. Sadly, the
internet connections here cost ca $1 per hour, so I would need to
extract a symbolic fee from each of you to pay for my expenses. And for
the extra work that would go into processing all those money orders and
credit cards and what not. I bet it's not free to process credit cards.
So I would have to collect a small fee for that too. On the bright
side, if I got enough paying viewers, I could afford a wide selection
of pastel colored boxer shorts, and (as soon as weather permits) pajamases.
(Pajami? Whatever.)
Today I got two emails saying that my site was funny, so I guess that must be true. I honestly think that varies from day to day, but perhaps not. Perhaps it is just that some days it is intentionally funny, and other days not. :) Oh, and I'm about to travel to Oslo in a few minutes. I expect to be back on Friday night. I will haul the Toshiba with me, but phone connection may be non existent or hair-raisingly overpriced on the hotel, so expect nothing. If I and my computer both survive, I will upload it all on my return.
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