Flies, fekkin Flies The black ones, the blue green ones, the ones with white dots on. I HATE THEM ALL I've a theory that they've (the flies) memorised a number of F1 tracks, and the fly circuits of these over my head, just to enrage me I keep all things spick and span so not to attract them, but still they come, still they do their circuits, though I got my own back on some today In a little side room to the garden they congregate the most. So I took a gas blow torch and fired it up and closed the doors and pursued them with the vigour of a MIG fighter pilot. Of course they know to avoid heat, but eventually after a few fly-bys they get caught by a lick of flame and a satisfying crackle brings them down, though some need further attention to finish the job I realise its a totally irrational method that could burn my hose down, but THEY'VE DRIVEN ME DO IT