Not for the squeamish...

(I shit you not: do not read this if you are bothered at all by the grotesque.)

I bring this up only to demonstrate my commitment to honesty, along with the delicious horror of it all... Think of the worst bug bite you've ever been struck with multiplied by a thousand and then you might begin to understand what I found on myself last night. Somehow, an intrepid mosquito took it upon himself to navigate perhaps through my shirt and boxer shorts to the very spot below the tail of my spine. Nestling himself between the upper portion of my ass cheeks, he decided to take a sip of my sweet nectar, depositing his own share of poison to make sure no gift went unreturned. Over time, this bite has turned into a massive gobstopper-sized welt, and despite no intentional itching on my part, just the movement of my ass has been enough to cause it to grow even further. At this point, I consider it a kind of katamari (just play the game already), growing in diameter by the day; I anxiously await the day when a crimson pulsing bowling ball rips my pants open from the back, stunning everyone in sight. I hope none of this ever happens to you; it hurts even when I think of sitting down.

I've now set my mind to devising unique torture methods for every insect I find in my love motel, turning Room 301 into a miniaturized Abu Ghraib. If I could find a six-legged Lyndie England (or whatever her name was), I would reward her nicely for her assistance.

I'll be posting more pertinent stories later on today, but presently this is taking up a considerable percentage of my thoughts. Pray for me. Also, if any of you can trump my "Worst Insect Bite Ever" story, maybe I'll buy you a Korean pencil case or something. Go ahead and try.

(Also, in the need to be humanitarian and all, best wishes to any of you who have family/friends in the Louisiana area. I haven't kept up enough with the coverage on CNN World here, but from the snippets I've managed to see, it looks terrible.)