Someone told me the other day that a dragonfly only lives for 24 hours. That's strange. I have billions of dragonflies in my yard and yet every morning I don't have to sweep away layers of dragonfly carcasses. What happens to them?
Honestly, I am just as bugged by the fact that I am being used by these little winged harlots. When I am out in the garden, one or two will sit on my arm or shoulder as I work. I thought they were the same ones everyday... but no. My arm and body are some sort of late-life vacation stop for winged geriatrics.
I bet I don't find any dragonfly bodies because they have a super efficient "Make a Wish" program. Let's face it, if you age and die in 24 hours you are like those kids we used to see, all toothless, looking and smelling like Grandpa while passing out on the teacup ride at Disney.
I wonder if I could write to "Make a Wish." I wonder if I could convince them that I am a 2 year-old who has a rare disease that makes him look like a flabby and gassy 38 year-old with a bitter world outlook and a nasty porn habit? If I did, they would have to give me my wish, right? Don't let the aging/dieing boy wither away without seeing his dream come true...
"Right. Right. Gotta do what's right. What does he want?"
"Well, he's got two dreams. We need to pick one. It's either blow up all the Jesus freaks or lynch the current Administration."
*originally posted today on brianlewandowski.com
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