Oh good gravy, this is annoying.
I went to a party yesterday — one of those all-day weekend dealies. It was all outside — there was food, and beer, even a volleyball net. Quite spiffy.
But just around dusk, the mosquitoes came calling. Got thirsty, I suppose, and decided to stop by for a drink. Bloodsucking little fuckers.
Now, I’ll have you know — I fought the good fight. I smeared a dozen or more of those bastards on my arms and legs. They’ll not be sticking their proboscises into anyone ever again.
But they had friends. Many, many friends. Thirsty friends. Sucky friends. Rat bastard itchy blood-pumping vein-poking friends. And they kicked my ass all night. I should have just gotten it over with and given blood at the hospital. Those little flying leeches took way more than a pint before it was all over with. And I hope the little bastards choked on it.
I’m serious, dammit. I can’t remember ever having this many mosquito bites at the same time. I started counting this morning, while I was scratching the damned things. I have nine — nine! — on one elbow. Not the whole arm. Not on both elbows. I’m talking about nine fucking itchy little bumps on two sqaure inches or so of skin on my right arm. Bitches!
(This is all just another reason — one of many, many reasons, mind you — why I could never be a nudist. There are simply some places where you should never have to apply calamine lotion.
Baby lotion, perhaps. Canola oil, sure. Hot fudge — maybe on special occasions or birthdays. But not calamine. The bumps, the itch, the hot pink color… yeek. That’s the kind of shit they show you in high school sex ed classes. No, thanks.)
So, anyway, I’m miserable. That’s what I’m saying. My legs itch, my arms itch, and yes, that right elbow is driving me fricking crazy. Damn thing looks like a mogul ski run. This sucks ass. I may never go outside again. Bah.Permalink | 7 Comments