I frickin have developed a sudden dislike for flying things. This morning, I woke up to several mosquito bites and the sound of the attacker buzzing around my face. If there's one thing that's nearly impossible, it's sleeping around flying attackers. I smothered myself under the blanket hoping he would go away but he didnt so I turned on the light, sat up in my bed, and asked the Lord to destroy this guy. A few minutes later, the vile enemy, fat and drunk off of my blood comes staggering by, and I smoosh him vengefully. Sigh. the senseless bloodshed, the ridiculousness, the folly of it all. Why must we travel down this road? What do we have to show for our bloody and merciless morning battle? Me - a few scars from his bites. Him - his pitiful life lost between my fingertips. Nothing gained at all. Now. Tonite, all I wanna do is go to sleep. And there's a FLY buzzing around. Like for the last hour. So. Loud. And flys are so frickin much harder to get rid of - they have some sort of weird wind-detection radar instinct. Its like the moment you even think about eradicating them - before the message impulses can travel thru the human nervous system - the fly already knows your very next move. It's like playing chess against a guru who knows the outcome of the game after the first 2 pieces have been played. Oh yes, this is a worthy foe. Lucky for him and me, he doesn't bite, otherwise I'd probably have to bust out the heavy artillery - some hair spray and a lighter, or something more drastic and effective. However, because he's less beligerent than the mosquito - there may be a chance for survival for both he and I. Maybe he'll fly out of my door and go bug one of my roommates instead. Hah! Keep them up all night instead of me. Lord, strike down this wretched fly with your hand of justice. Repay him for his evil. Amen.