I am re-posting this because I am still working on the Continuation of the ‘Sinai Field Mission Chronicles‘.
(Great Excuse, eh?) Anyway, some of you ‘newbies’ may not have had the wonderful ‘opportunity’ to have swerved into it. Therefore it is with great humility that I present it once again for your perusal.
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Bugs were a huge problem for us in Basra.
There were big bugs, small bugs, flying bugs, crawling bugs, creeping bugs, creepy bugs, sleepy bugs, scary bugs, poisonous bugs, biting bugs, fighting bugs, suicide bomber bugs, and worst of all: No-See’um bugs. (Please don’t get me wrong: I love bugs: Queendom and Spiders)
But every day at precisely 1600hrs:
BUGMAN!
We all worked in trailers, which passed for ‘Offices’ in Basra and we had A/C Window Units which would suck in the Bugman’s Offerings with vengeance. So everyday, at around 1600hrs, we kept collective ears tuned for the sound of Bugman and his Blower, lest we fail to turn off the A/C’s and become victim to BUGMAN.
The parlance always went like this: The one with the best hearing would announce in a low nonchalant voice:
‘The Bugman.” (almost a whisper, but we were all tuned in to those two words–we certainly did not want to be premature, because of the oppressive heat)
Then scramble to shut down all the A/C units ahead of relentless Bugman (no less than twelve window units), and life would go on, while we sat sweating (Yes, the heat was brutal, but so were the bugs).
“Here I come to savvve the day!!!”
Mister Bugman
Sung to the tune ‘Mister Sandman”
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bug, bug, bug, bug, bug
bug, bug, bug, bug, bug
bug, bug, bug, bug, bug
Mr. Bugman, save us from screams
(bug, bug, bug, bug, bug)
Steve…
I. Am insane.
But only on the weekends..
An ode to bugs? WTF?! You can’t dream this shite up. And Dude with the smoker is laying waste to them it looks like.