The mosquitoes tell me I have sweet blood.
No, seriously though, I’m not kidding. The amount of bug
bites I’ve accrued this summer far outweighs anyone else’s. According to my
Latino and Middle Eastern and African American friends, mosquitoes like dark
meat. As one of the whitest people on the planet, I beg to differ. My legs are
shot up and down with heinous, red, raised, circular marks and I have woken up
on numerous evenings just to scratch at my ankles and thighs and dump buckets
of calamine on my shins. Then I spent a good few days trying to convince my dad
(a physician) that I have psoriasis, but he says that people with psoriasis
have a legitimate, autoimmune disease and all I have is a slew of fucking
gnarly-ass mosquito bites and a habit for peeing in the grass. The mosquitoes
may like the dark meat, but THEY LOVE this bitch’s white ass (legs, arms, neck,
shoulders…).
Fine.
But I think I know why the mosquitoes like me so hard: it’s
because whenever I’m outside or near grass, I’m drinking wine. And MOSQUITOES
LOVE WINE.
New theory: mosquitoes are drawn to people who are drawn to
alcohol. Game, set, match. Mosquitoes (my friend Michelle likes to pronounce it
phonetically: mos-kwi-toes) are alcoholic, asshole insects that only come
around in the summer because that’s when we are at our VERY DRUNKEST! Theory.
Just a theory. But, come on, right? In the summer we drink outside because it’s
lovely, because it’s The Fourth of July, because maybe there’s a sweet concert or a barbeque, maybe there are fireworks, or maybe just because it’s warm. They don’t bite us
in the winter because we DRINK INSIDE in the winter. They’d starve to death if
they had to wait for someone to drink outside in the winter. Those little
shit-head drunks.
 | |
| A couple of 'skeeters hanging out on my leg. |
I’ve taken to bug-spraying myself everywhere on my body and
everywhere I go. I call it “Summer Camp Cologne.” It either gives people
wonderful memories or makes them sick: just like any other perfume/cologne. Sorry, friends.
I HATE insects, as I’ve indicated in previous posts. I’ve
spent the summer trying to get over my fear of them (I will talk about this in
another post soon). Insects are something "we have to live with." But I just killed a fly with my bare thumb, so something tells me I'm turning a corner on the fear front. Mosquitoes don't deserve to live, nor should they drink anymore of my cheap wine blood.
 |
| My legs, covered in calamine and bug bites. |
*Not sure how I feel about quoting Il Duce, but this quote is, indeed, from Mussolini. Er...at least he was good-looking?
No comments:
Post a Comment