The Hose

Evil
The bugs are eating me alive. I swear. The past two nights I've hardly slept because when I'm not furiously scratching my feet, legs, arms, neck, and other places, I am lying still, feeling little insect nibbles on my skin.

This morning, I woke up with a tube of toothpaste beside my pillow. My feet and ankles were smeared with a flouridey-fresh tartar control formula. (Yay!) But why? In fact, I noticed that my legs, both elbows, parts of my forearm, my stomach, upper left thigh, and neck all sported clumsily applied circles of toothpaste. Apparently, my semi-conscious self wandered to the bathroom during the night to find a cure for these crazy bug bites.

Is my bed really THAT dirty? I never eat on it or anything. What can it be? Is my blood just that much better tasting than my neighbors' blood? There is a girl who lives one floor below me and she's quite the chubster. Hey bugs, if you're reading this... GO SUCK ON HER! Leave me alone. Please.