Mosquitos: A Treatise on Why We Should Murder Them All and Let God Sort Them Out

I hate mosquitos.

 I know, I know – I’m in Texas. What do I expect?

Not this.

Image from: ABC13 - https://abc13.com/weather/quarter-size-mosquitoes-plague-area-amid-heavy-rainfall-/4235028/

I’m used to mosquito swarms during summer, even the end of summer, especially when it’s been especially wet and rainy, like it is right now. But this is not the normal level of swarms.

They swarm the front door, turning it from its usual not-so-clean white to a mottled grey with moving bits.

They swarm into the car the minute I open the door to get in. (And then I’m in the situation of not crashing the car trying to swat at a bug, which, of course, I would never ever do, but, for argument’s sake, let’s say I did, and let’s say that I believe the wasp in the car died when I hit the telephone pole, so it was sort of an even trade: the front end of the VW for a vicious little bastard of a wasp.)

They swarm me the minute I sit on the back porch. I wind up not being able to do anything, including just sitting there and watching the dogs run around or listening to nothing, because I spend every second swatting them away, and I still get covered in bites.

There is a bit of joy in the situation, though. There’s nothing like the feeling when you get revenge on one for landing on you. But by then, it’s probably already bitten you, so that revenge is tempered by the fact that there’s often a little splot of blood when you kill it. The blood that splots out might be yours (gross! Bloodsucking bastard!), or, even worse, someone else they bit before they bit you (extra gross! You bastard whore of a mosquito!).

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I hate mosquitos. I hate them very, very, very, very, very much. But not as much as I hate Trump. So there’s that.

And for your viewing pleasure – the In-Laws from 1979! Peter Falk’s description of tsetse flies is what I think of when I see our current mosquito swarms…


Why I Hate Florida, The January 2013 Version

Time to Leave Florida!
Time to Leave Florida!
  • I have a mosquito bite on my hand.  It hurts.  It’s January!
  • The bed is so low that I smacked below my knee on the wooden edge, and even though I was wearing jeans, I have not only a big old bruise but also scraped the skin. 
  • And then the next day I did it again, but on the other side of the leg. 
  • And it still hurts.
  • The printer in the “office” at the apartment declared it had no paper, regardless of the number of times I turned it off and on again, removed and put back the paper, and even photocopied blank paper.  It didn’t work.  Ever.
  • The lines at Starbucks are crazy long, the parking lot looks like it was designed by M.C. Escher, and someone cut me off and stole my spot, making me sit in the drive through for ten minutes for a simple cup of coffee.
  • The Mexican food.  Really, who serves Mexican food in Florida?  There wasn’t enough sour cream to make edible.
  • I have no time! No time! (But I don’t suppose that is actually the fault of Florida…)