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Wednesday, June 09, 2004

It was 5:30 AM and he was hungry. He hadn’t eaten in 16 hours and he was starting to feel it. He longed for the sweet crimson nectar, I could tell, but there was no way I was going to give it to him without a fight, at least not consciously. He had the advantage of near invisibility as it was still dark in the small cluttered room, though his incessant whining could be heard from anywhere in it. Not a pleasant sound, rather gating actually, like a violin bow on a guitar. He was getting restless after a night of failure and hunger, natural though it may be, I was not giving up. If he wanted it, he was going to have to earn it. One attack after another made and thwarted by some subtle move, always just a bit out of reach. It had become too much, it was time all was lost or gained. One final swoop was made, catching me completely unawares and half asleep. Victory was his, hunger nearly satisfied. Prone and about to feast … SMACK! The battle was lost and the ultimate price was paid. Mosquitoes piss me off.

Summary in seven words: I hate Mosquitoes, I hate them fervently.

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