last post of the evening: FUCKING MOSQUITOES

The weather has cooled down enough so that most of the little flying fuckers that plague me-- gnats, mosquitoes, etc.-- have retreated into whatever dank fastness they call their winter home. But the PC-bahng remains a warm, inviting haven for mosquitoes, which apparently have Predator-style infrared vision that registers heat-emitting objects, like my double chin's fat. I've caught two mosquitoes this evening and am currently being dive-bombed by a third. It will soon know the awful wrath of the Hominid.

David Chadwick, who wrote the strange Thank You and OK!, a book/travelogue about his life as a Western Zen monk in Japan, at some point talks about how the Japanese monks at his monastery used to deal with temple pests: they'd scoop them up, carry them to the front door, then throw them out while shouting, "Be happy!"

If only I had that kind of enlightenment. Me, I simply grab mosquitoes out of the air and delight in crushing their helpless little bodies between my fingers. I wish them only ill. And it's an especial pleasure to see that I've killed a mosquito that recently sucked blood-- they never had the chance to enjoy their ill-gotten gains.

mosquito attacks
feels the crushing fist of death
--leukocytes avenged!

By the way, if you're wondering why I'm blogging this late, it's because Monday is my "slow day" and I chose to wake up awfully late, pace Ben Franklin. Now it's early Tuesday, and I still don't feel sleepy, but I'm signing off anyway. Good morning.
_