I have a book called “Pests” which tells about mankind’s banes from kudzu to mosquitoes. The clear winner of what bug is the most pesky is Musca domestica, or the common housefly. I most certainly agree. Nothing drives me to distraction more than a housefly whizzing around the kitchen. I don’t see them as merely insects, but Pestilence on wings. I recall from college biology the foul things can transmit dozens of nasty diseases. They are continually salivating and pooping.
I am told flies hum the note of “F” which stands for Foul.
I am like a bull seeing red seeing flies around food, for it touches on my knowledge of microbiology, infectious disease, history of medicine, and food saftey. A yellow plastic fly swatter hangs from a magnetic hook on the side of the fridge. Someone finds this disgusting; worse when I start waving it around. But it is a small price to pay considering the black death-like consequences of flies amok among the foodstuffs. At picnics and outside get-togethers I stand guard at the buffet table ever vigilant for flying filth.
I am not subtle with a swatter. I chase flies around the room with all enthusiasm of Harpo Marx. I am told flies always fly up backwards when they take off, so I plan accordingly, but I don’t have a lot of data (or luck) to prove or disprove this theory.
Happily we don’t get too many houseflies here in Phoenix. However, last winter a batch of them was born inside the house and overnight we had dozens of tiny bastards and it was quite maddening for a week or so.
But I am Fly-Master (my super hero alter ego) and I always prevail.