Flies. Lovely little things aren’t they? I love them almost as much as I adore seagulls. I’ve found that both of the little darlings hover round rubbish, although I can’t recollect ever seeing a seagull sitting on a steaming turd and enjoying the experience. Flies are lower than the lowest. They just love being around shit and puke and everything despicable that humans and animals produce.

So I started thinking about the resident fly on the staffroom wall and how he or she must have been licking his or her filthy lips the other day. There was a lot of excrement flying round the conversations as the teachers pondered life over lunch. I guess the solitary fly probably called in reinforcements because there was so much crap to digest. I’m not saying the nation’s educators were talking a load of s*** but they were talking about it. As they masticated. Hey…slow down…I said “masticated!” As they chewed their food it was unbelievably lewd and rude and crude, dude. How they managed to digest their food, I do not know.

They talked about toilets of the world. One lady talked about toilets in Cuba where you have to rent a door for your cubicle, otherwise the world can see your number ones and twos in all their glory. Maybe there’s a niche for a toilet vlogger there somewhere so that the toilet voyeurs can be satisfied. They talked about dunnies, about digging holes, going in holes, emptying holes and excruciatingly smelly holes. They went around the world, stopping off at various places along the way. The new member of staff had a sudden revelation that there are no boundaries to what is, and is not, an acceptable lunchtime topic of conversation. The fly had a field day. The fly’s crew had a feast. The whole thing was a grossly sordid and vile exhibition. I should hasten to add that I was there, I joined in and I loved every minute of it.

©Cre8ivation