Thursday, June 10, 2004

For those of you who don't want to hear about my personal vendetta against the mosquito hordes, scroll down to the next paragraph.

While I appreciated the suggestion in regards to capturing one of the minions and threatening it, I am not sure it would work for me as a) I have no frogs in my backyard who are on my side (or any who aren't for that matter), b) I tend to ascribe to the theory that mosquitoes and other insects do not and never will be able to understand English and thus not my intimidation, and c) my negotiations thus far with them have resulted in many casualties on their part, so I don't think they would take kindly to further threats or even take any heed at all if they could understand. One of them attempted to fill its tiny belly with the blood of my watch today and seemed only mildy disappointed when it became apparent that it was not going to work as planned. Then it seemed to drop dead to the floor, perhaps because of the mild disappointment (perhaps it was more than mild, I am not an expert at reading the reactions of the tiny buggers) or perhaps it was the swift descending of my hand upon its back to relieve the species of its stupidity (perhaps this was a particularly mindless twat of a bug (as opposed to the strategic bug of yesterday), or maybe the general intelligence of their kind is on the decrease). Only a crack team of scientists with magnifying glasses and tiny instruments will be able to tell for sure. On the plus side, at least I haven't yet gotten to the point of tying a dish cloth around my head and running around my backyard with a pellet gun yelling profanity at nothing in particular like someone I know...

For those of you who scrolled down to here, I'm sorry there is nothing further to post for today, but if you tune in later on I'm sure I will post something that will catch your interest. Of course there is always the option that you could grow to love tales of me and my war against the species.

Stubble update: Definitely short beard, like the kind you would see on an lower manager that feels like pissing off his boss. I'm sure what that has to do with a beard, but I'm sure there is someone out there in that position who shares the level of stubble that I have attained.

Summary in seven words: One mans war against his sworn enemy.

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