Once Bitten, Twice Furious

It's a warzone in there. My apartment is so filled with mosquitos that I...sorry, I normally would have written a joke at the end of that sentence, but I'm about a quart low on blood, and the typing made me pass out. And before you ask, "Well, how did you type the REST of that sentence then, which was much longer than the part that supposedly made you pass out?" let me just say this. I don't need your guff. I really don't need any guff at all, as long as we're being totally honest here.

 

I killed LITERALLY 50,000 figurative mosquitos last night. Not before they each got at least one whack at my delicious, delicious blood. I hope it tasted really great, considering how smooshed they are at present.

 

I'm not sure why I am suddenly inundated with these little bloodsucking pests, but I have some theories.

1. One reason could be that mosquitos get angry when someone starts lists on his/her blog without planning them out ahead of time. If that is my crime, then so be it. I plead no contest (mostly because I don't really know what that means.)
2. Someone has decided to build the Panama Canal under my bed. I just didn't notice because my apartment isn't near Panama. Also, you know, they work 9 to 5 and so do I. Up until now, our schedules didn't force our paths to cross. But now that I am fully 25% malaria, I think I might just put a note on the foreman's windshield.
3. The mosquitos overheard the M*A*S*H marathon that I watched the other day, and they are too stupid to realize that "The Swamp" was just a nickname that Hawkeye and Trapper gave to their tent. It's a purely honorary title, and it's also only on Television. Ah, mosquitos -- they are such children sometimes.
4. My lifelong belief that I am just as adorable at plasma-level as I am out here in the world is really true!

Thanks, mosquitos. You have really given me perspective on life. I'm almost going to be sorry when I murder every last one of you while laughing maniacally.