The hell is that? I live in the damn desert, for God's sake! It's dry here! Really dry here! If you live here you have to drink twelve thirty-two ounce glasses of water a day just to shed your skin like a healthy reptile! There's none of this "water water everywhere" thing going on, and generally that is required for the mosquito world, so will someone please explain to me how the damn mosquitoes find their way here and then select me as their favorite target?!
Creatures... they are AWFUL creatures! I can't find a reason for their existence in this ecosystem aside from keeping the human population level in some kind of death toll balance. I absolutely hate them! This is a time when I wear sun dresses, this is a time when I show some skin, and this is a time when they decide to mark up my flesh with red bumps that itch and piss me off in more ways than one! Is this Florida? NO! This is the desert! Someone call the feds and tell them we have an immigration problem! The mosquitoes have decided they like it better here and we can't stop them from coming and stealing our lifeblood and leaving stupid marks on our body right before we decide to dress to the nines and impress someone!
Seriously... I was out on my patio the other night, and I when I came back in there were two glorious red bites on my left arm. When I was at work the next day, talking to a specific gentleman about a certain document I needed him to sign, I noticed that he kept focusing on the bumps on my arm. It really started to bug me. I mean, if he were focused on my cleavage or something at least I would know I had him distracted enough to sign anywhere without thinking much about it, but when staring at inflamed red bumps on my arm I can only imagine what could be flying through his mind: "Whoa... Is she ill? Is that a disease? Does she have chicken pox or shingles or something? Oh my god... she's touched the same pen and paper she's asking me to touch! Am I going to get what she's got?!"
I'm not kidding. The man was entranced by the stupid bites on my arm. I finally looked at him and said, "Yes, I got bit by some mosquitoes or something the other night." And after he realized that he had been caught staring at the more unattractive parts of my body he replied, "Well honey, that's just because you're so sweet." Really...? Just sign the damn easement. I know what paranoid thoughts were flying through your head old man. Sign it.
I did leave that moment irritated. I did leave that moment thinking about how I need to eat more garlic or something because, it works on vampires so... might as well give it a shot. And... because I'm so sweet?! ugh... that's such an old one... will someone come up with something new? Seriously, I'm not that sweet. I may have been prior to ... hell, I don't know... 15? But I'm full of piss and vinegar these days and they're still biting the shit out of me. How about you say something to me like, "Well... something's gotta bite you because apparently you've not had any luck in the bedroom lately so... at least the mosquitoes think you're worth it." Man... if dude had said that to me I would've laughed out loud and actually paid him a dollar to sign that damn document. But no... that's not how it goes. Shit bites you, leaves itchy ugly marks, and then some idiot tells you it's because you're sweet.
Are you reading this blog? I'm not sweet, man... I... am... not... sweet... and apparently the mosquitoes like it that way.
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