Thanks to my ancestors, blood sucking creatures love me. Like way more than any normal person. Luckily I’ve never ran into a vampire, but I’m sure that it would not go well.
But I do normally have onion breath.
It’d probably work the same as having garlic, right?
I’ve got this friend, you see. She’s like a nomad, only she normally sleeps indoors. I live vicariously through her travels. It’s cheaper for me that way.
On occasion, she’ll come visit MN and stay with me, The Husband, and The Beast. Last weekend was one of those times, but it turned into a time I’ll never forget because of all the blood we donated to the local insect community.
On Saturday we had a grill-out with another pair of friends, that recently got hitched.
The food was delisc delish delisc. The drinks were strong. I drank a few five too many.
Then we decided to have a little bonfire to make some s’mores, the poor man’s creme brulee.
The boy-scout Husband set out to make the perfect fire. There was adequate seating, so this short friend of mine and I sat on our swing that we had moved to the inferno.
Now, you see, the swing’s seat was made out of this heavy-duty mesh stuff but it’s not all that holey. And we both had yoga pants on, to avoid as much visible skin as possible.
There was citronella flowing as the five of us tried to defend ourselves from the state bird of MN: the mosquito.
I don’t ever remember them being so bad at our house before. We were all practically sitting in the fire. I’m surprised I still have eyebrows.
We eat s’mores. I have another drink or three. The married friends go home. We watch Entourage. And pass out on the couch/chair.
The next day we went to a Twins game, which was sweltering.
Then trekked over to the MOA. By this point, we were tired, but mostly hungry.
Went to this fun pizza place. Ate and dreamed of yoga pants.
But then it started.
Jenni talked about how she had quite a few mosquito bites.
On her tush.
I laughed and then all of the sudden, my butt starting itching as well.
The more time went on, the worse it got. By the time we got back to the house, the itching was unbearable!
After a final tally, I had 8 bites and she had 9 or 10 or something around that (correction: 17 total bug bites…it’s still a touchy subject…), just edging me out for best tasting blood. Luckily we were in it together, one application of cortisone cream at a time. We even had similar bite patterns.
There are very few people with who I would discuss my horrific mosquito bite catastrophe in great detail including size, color, and location while scratching them with the knobs on my kitchen cabinets.
I’m glad she’s my friend.
And that we’re so weird classy.
Note: this photo is from about 2005 or so. So, yeah, we don’t really look like that anymore.
Also note: margarita bucket in the background. I want one. Immediately.
Really note: the super awesome shirt I’m wearing. I still have it. Even though it’d only go to my belly button. I just can’t part with supreme awesomeness.
It’s also my personal mantra. And my excuse to not work out. Ever.