DEEPTHROAT BAGHDAD

I do a little freelance photography for the New York Times, every once in awhile, more as a favor to them than for work, but it helps keep me occupied.  So, there I was, out in a makeshift tent city within a hurriedly set up Marine compound about 15 miles to the East of Mandali, Iraq, and about 65 miles from Baghdad, snugged right up on the Iranian border.  I woke up to the sound of sporadic gun fire in the distance as happened about every other morning during the 2 weeks I was there.  Inside the large tents, at least for the journalists, civilians, red cross, etc., we had air conditioning and almost pleasant accommodations.  By about 1000 in the morning I was cleaned up and getting ready to head out of the relative cool of the tent.  Cool as in, 87 degrees; which beat the hell out of the 122 degrees outside of the tent.  I stepped outside, stretched my arms to the sky just as I imagined the Babylonian king Hammurabi might have on his mornings under the same skies centuries ago.  I opened my mouth and began to yawn……YAAAWWWWNNN GGGGGAAAAHHHHHGGGGGGG!!!!!  (GAG!) (COUGH!) (GAG!)

A HUGE black fly flew directly down my throat and landed just beneath my tonsils!  Now just for clarification, these aren’t the flies you may be used to in America.  If you have never been to Iraq or just in the Gulf/ Mesopotamian region in general, before, there is something you need to know about the flies.  They are fucking HUGE!  The best size analogue is the eraser of a pencil…..take that and double the size and that’s what was buzzing away furiously deep in my throat.  I felt like I had inhaled Tinker Bell’s drunken hairy Italian cousin Benji Venito.  This creature, who I am calling STEVE, was buzzing and squirming around in an attempt to crawl back OUT the way it came.  It was already past the point where the gag reflex would be activated.  I had a choice to make as STEVE crawled slowly up my throat; its fluttering wings reverberating in my ears via my sinus cavities.  I either had to swallow this fucker or hack him up.  Since he was so far down; I opted to swallow.  I manned up, took a huge dry gulp and my throat muscles forced STEVE down deeper.  The thing that I could never have known is that STEVE came from a long line of proud warrior flies with a lineage dating back to the ancient Persian Empire.  His great ancestors were sucking nutrients out Cyrus the Great’s camel’s shit.  STEVE, despite losing serious ground, began to claw and buzz his way back up.  In a panic, I immediately swallowed STEVE back down a second time.  Once again, STEVE fought back, “I KEEL YOU! YOU MUDHUFUCKA!”  he said, in defiance, as he now leaped and bounded up my esophagus.  Finally, with my salivary glands now running in overdrive, despite the dry weather, I porn star gulped one last time.  STEVE’s long line of nobility ended, that day, with me, amongst the chyme within my stomach.  He was a strong fly; a determined and proud fly; and he was also a big fat nasty hairy fucking fly!  Good riddens STEVE maybe you shouldn’t fly down people’s fucking throats dipshit!