If there is one thing I'll never understand in life it's mosquitoes. Seriously, why? Mosquitoes are like that one guy at the party. He doesn't know when to shut up and will follow you around persistently trying to tell you about the time he downed 6 cans of spray cheese without regurgitating it. The only difference is that in most cases that guy isn't trying to suck my blood, and I don't have the urge to smash him against my bathroom mir-- hmm. Actually that analogy was pretty spot on.
I know that not only birds eat mosquitoes, but if your single most redeeming trait is that you can be eaten by other things, then I'm pretty sure you have failed as a species. Speaking of 'failing as a species', why do mosquitoes always choose to bite me? I'm in a crowd of 100 people, there's plenty of blood to go around. I mean I know I'm pretty and all, but calm down.
In actuality, mosquitoes prefer different blood types. The reason for this is just so they can add another check mark to the "screw you" list. I went through the liberty of developing a biologically accurate hierarchy of blood types that mosquitoes prefer. Guess which one I am.
So, yeah. I hate mosquitoes. More than wet jeans. More than a sticker that rips instead of coming off in one piece. More than a pencil tip that breaks right after you sharpen it. More than pancakes without syrup.
Actually now that I think about it, maybe the reason mosquitoes are so cruel to me is because I'm cruel to them. I mean, sure I killed one of their relatives and whispered to it that nobody would mourn their loss, but that was only one time. Even still, they are just trying to eat... my blood. And that horrible high-pitched whine that they make isn't that annoying...
You know what? Forget it. Mosquitoes suck.
