LES ANIMAUX SONT DES CONS (ET MOI AUSSI)

I was on the phone, having a mildly interesting conversation with a friend when a fly flew directly into the spotlight, which is clamped by the side of the bed. The stupid fucker (dazzled dimwit) managed to get itself trapped between the incandescent bulb and its protective guard (nice high tech Italian design). It started buzzing, frying and making a most unbecoming racket. I just had to interrupt the telephone call (show me anyone who can watch a creature fry while pursuing an irrelevant/ superficial conversation and I'll show you somebody I don't want to invite over for dinner) in order to tip the lamp stand over and let the winged idiot find it's way out of it's 220 volt hell. It did, flew off licked it's singed wings and landed in the glass of water standing nearby. Since the telephone conversation was a write-off and the fly's survival was becoming more and more dubious, I carefully stuck my index finger out, let the mindless minute moron dry it's half burned-half sogged translucent appendages and while it tottered away pondered the dimensions of my goodness: If god, or whoever (whatever) runs the show, treats me with only a particle of the kindness I showed that bug-eyed imbecile, I might just make it. If it doesn't, (and I will always refer to God as "It" until I meet the whatever/ whoever in the face) I will die happily with the knowledge that a little something continued for a few micro-seconds to be a little something. I just hope the 3rd degree burns eventually healed in that awesome morning haze.

PS: Why do I love life so much, even in its most minute representations, its most despicable displays? WHAT AM I SEEING AND FEELING THAT I'M NOT UNDERSTANDING??
O, GREAT OCTOPUS in the sky, please don't let me go religious, double NO.