Back in the day, my dad used to joke “Not me”.
But these days, I usually chalk biting sensations up to insanely dry skin, which gets snagged on cotton underwear. I mean, am I the only one who endures random attacks which feel like actual bug bites?
It’s kind of like a mild bee sting, which almost always elicits a high pitched shrill on my part, followed by a fist being jammed down the back of my pants to see what the hell is attacking me, just to find out there’s nothing fucking there!
Am I just insane?
A couple of days ago, I had an itch. And then I discovered there’s an actual bite on my ass. Considering where I live, I assume it’s way too cold yet for there to be any ticks, mosquitoes, or anything else of the likes to leave such a bite. So, I wonder if Satan’s spawn somehow made its way into my bed, where I tend to sleep with less clothing sometimes, and it stole a chunk of my flesh.
What this gal did is so wrong on every level. Spiders bite, and by no means are their bites harmless. I’ve had baseball sized spider bites that turned very ugly.
Whatever the case with the spot on my ass, a day or two more should determine whether or not I’m going to die, because I honestly can’t think of anything else which could’ve left such a mark on me.
I’m open to suggestions.
I live on the edge of Lake Erie, where we are still performing sacrificial rituals in hopes of at least a month of spring. Summer? I’m not holding my breath. And given our lack of spring, we haven’t seen many insects since last October. Three spiders, tops. Maybe a ladybug or two.
Ass bites suck … and itch like f*ck.