Monday, October 10, 2011


Long time fans of my blogs (hahahah) may remember in 2008 when a series of mosquitos ravaged me in my apartment in Greenpoint. If you are a new fan (hahahahah), here's a glance at the horror: 

Well, it's been three years and as they say, the more things change they more then stay the same. My apartment might be bigger, my hair might be better, and I might have a husband, but the FUCKING MOSQUITOS STILL FIND THEIR WAY INTO MY GODDAMN BEDROOM WHEN IT GETS COOL OUT AND EAT THE SHIT OUT OF MY SKIN.

The one thing that has changes is that the mosquitos are less visible. For weeks I couldn't seem them at all, I just woke up covered in bites, feeling victimized. My husband feared that we had bed bugs, but I know the mark of the indoor mosquito when I see it. And then finally last night I got buzzed. A little buzzing in the ear of the tormented is a mosquitos way of saying…

"Hello blood sack. You can't see me but I can see you. Swing wildly in the dark all you want, looking like a zombie zumba instructor. Your body is mine." 

I learned in 2008 that if you put the blanket over your head you can't breath but the mosquito also can't eat you. Alas, 2011 Phaea has not just a sleeping husband in her bed but a slightly evil cat and a 30 pound schnauzer mix who's motives are not always clear. 

You would think that because I am their master they would be doing all they could to hunt down the FUCKING mosquito and eat it. Charlie the cat loves eating cockroaches and leaving a single leg out for me. What's a little mosquito to him? Nothing! But no, these two animals appears to be working with the mosquito as Gus pinned me down on one side and Charlie pinned me down on the other. I could not escape. 

The more frightening thing besides the fact that my animals have turned against me is that these 2011 mosquitos seem to only be going for my hands. It's like they KNOW how I make a living and they are trying to destroy me. And I can't do anything about it. 

Looking back, this blog post has clearly been written by an insane person -- or more accurately -- someone driven insane by something. In fact, how do you people know that the Mosquito has not lodged itself into my brain and is actually controlling everything I'm writing right now?

How do you know that I am not the Mosquito? 



help me. 

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

The good stuff starts at :42