Nuptial Flight Club (Tell Everyone)

Warning! This post contains:

• sex, death, and weather radar

• a feast on the fuckin’

• one (1) decapitation, mid-coitus, and

• cicadas who stucked to death.

Reader discretion is advised. So is connecting before it’s too late.

Wikipedia calls it Flying Ant day, but if I was the editor, I would have totally gone with Nuptial Flight Club.

It’s exactly what it sounds like. Every year, on a hot, sweaty day, swarms of flying ants launch straight up into the air and turn the sky into one giant aerial orgy. Wings shimmer and bodies crash into one big bang.

I’m such a nerd. I get turned on watching bugs. There’s a scientific word for it called entomology — the study of insex.

Sometimes, when conditions are really moist, it attracts so many flying ants that they resemble rain showers on weather radar systems.

This means somewhere, a meteorologist is also getting turned on.

It’s a big annual holiday for local birds as well. Depending on your point of view, Nuptial Flight Club is either feast or fuckin’ – or both: a feast on the fuckin’.

After the deed is done, the prince’s wings fall off and he drops dead. The queen also sheds her wings but does so strategically after landing, which settles the debate on which sex is smarter.

Then, for up to fifteen years, she’ll lay eggs almost continuously, giving birth to an entire colony – hundreds of thousands of land roamers and air fuckers.

Imagine if you were the dudeant, though. You just laid the hottest queen babe in the air! Everything’s cool. Then, all of a sudden, your wings fall off and you plummet to a gruesome death. Way to take one for the team, buddy.

Here’s some more insect S&M to ponder. Ms. Mantis will sometimes incorporate cannibalism into copulation. After she bites her lover’s head off, Mr. Mantis continues to assume the position and finishes her off like a gentleman.

Proof that even decapitation can’t kill the mood. What a good sport. Not many can say they went out doing what they loved. Speaking of which …

The other day, I found two dead cicadas stuck together. It was the most romantic thing I’d ever seen so I said, “Look baby, they stucked to death.”

Being the weirdo that I am, it gave me a wonderful idea – only it came in a dream that woke me up in the middle of the night. The entire song was in my head.

This one’s for all the kinky cicadas out there.

Love Me to Death

The day we met, I gave you my life
Just a little girl, now I’m your wife
Never wanted to leave, but now I’m trying
‘Cause it hurts to breathe – Doc says I’m dying

I don’t know if there’s a heaven above
I’m not religious – I believe in your love
You fell for me, guardian angel
Put a spell on me – “You Are So Beautiful”

Chorus
I’m barely here, but I can hear everythin’
I wanna feel your lips, don’t need no medicine
I’ll fit you into this hospital bed
Be one with me, mi amore before I’m dead

Before I pass into oblivion
Lay your head, hear my heart’s rhythm
Won’t you grant me my last request
Kiss me goodbye and love me to death

Chorus
I’m barely here, but I can hear everything
I wanna feel your lips, don’t need no medicine
I put my lipstick on – the cherry red
I’ll leave my mark before I’m dead

Baby, come quick – I fell on the floor
I’m losing breath – give me yours
Don’t help me up – lay right here
Whisper your love in my ear

Chorus
I’m barely here, but I can hear everythin’
I feel your lips. I feel your medicine
As my heart departs let us profess
our love. Lay me to rest

In peace … loved to death
In peace … loved to death

Maybe insects have it right. Their whole lives revolve around one improbable instinct — to connect before it’s too late. In the end, we’re all just trying to connect and love each other to death.