Ah, the joys of Mosquitoes

Dear mosquitoes,

Hi. The name’s…well my name is not important. I bet you’d wonder anyways because I can imagine supreme beings like you get names like Sally, Augustus, Tyrone and Post Election Violence, but I’m just going on a whim there.

How are you guys? How is the feeding season? It’s cold but with all the blood you keep SIPHONING, I bet you stay warm. Plus all the exercise, that’s got to count for something. I picture six packs and nicely toned thighs. Tell the overachievers to ease up on the workouts, nobody likes a show off.

Anyways, as you’ve noticed, I talk too much. My parents have not yet tried a facility but I’ll see that they get to my crazy as soon as possible.

I don’t want you to get too attached what with you needing the extra time for dinner and me being an obvious mosquito magnet. It just wouldn’t be fair for any of us.

I’d just like to say something. With you being a creature of God I would like us to dialogue before any blood is shed. Listen, I understand your need to feed on anything that breathes in oxygen and farts out an unknown deadly gas [Gaseous Exchange is what I hear them calling it, I could be wrong].

I’m guessing blood is an acquired taste. Just one request though, even though you are sucking on my blood, or my sister’s blood [I’m happy to offer her up as a sacrifice by the way] it’s nice to be quiet agreeable neighbours.

This may seem a bit harsh to you, some strange, awkwardly cool girl asking you to shut up but seriously, everyone needs a break from the world, so please

“SHUT THE HELL UP, I’M TRYING TO BLOODY SLEEP!”

Yours truly and kindly...

Me.