Bugged

      Why do biting insects consider me an all-you-can-eat buffet? Mosquitoes, chiggers, ticks, horseflies, Congressmen, etc., you name the pest; they all want a big bite of me.
      I could be on a beach covered head-to-foot in a spacesuit that had been lathered in enough insect repellent to permanently alter my DNA and be surrounded by nearly naked people, but the insects would ignore all those easy targets to swarm me.
      I've actually stepped just outside my front door to get the mail and been attacked by so many mosquitoes that my tan faded. I'm the equivalent of a blood bank to them. Female mosquitoes have been known to fly vast continents and brave vicious hurricanes to get a pint from me. (Male mosquitoes don't drink blood. They eat pollen only. This is yet another example of the female being more vicious than the male. Remember that before you vote for Hillary.)
      And don't tell me about your home remedies. I've tried lotion, lotion with lemon juice, lotion with citronella sap, lotion with perfume, lotion with skunk oil, etc. I've spent entire summers slicker than a greased pig. My favorite was Avon Skin-So-Soft bath oil. It didn't keep the mosquitoes away, but they appreciated how soft my skin felt to their little feet.
      Some Native American tribes used to smear their bodies with bear fat, buffalo manure and tobacco to keep insects away. It certainly kept away the other people.
      Other home remedies include rubbing your skin with oils from cedar, lavender, garlic, cinnamon or peppermint. The first two make the insects feel like they're back in their beloved forests while the last three add a pleasant taste.
      And don't expect those citronella candles to work. I think they were actually created by insect sympathizers who wanted to give the bugs a chance to dine by candlelight. We only need to play music to complete a romantic evening for Mr. and Mrs. Bug.
      Commercial insect repellents don't work, either. They're greasy, stinky and dangerous. Have you ever read the labels on the spray cans? Nuclear power plants don’t come with the warnings they do. (Most people don't know that Godzilla was actually created by an accident with insect repellent when a small, innocent reptile -- like that one in those car insurance commercials -- fell into a vat of chemicals meant to be used against Mothra.)
      But don't think that I function only as a landing strip for the flying pests. Chiggers and ticks also find me tasty. They sprint my direction with speed that quarter horses envy. You can actually hear them rushing toward me. It gives "the pitter-patter of little feet" a whole new ugly meaning.
      Of course, I've been told that other people actually get bit as much as I do, but because I develop large welts when an insect's shadow even falls on me, I notice the bites more. There is, unfortunately, some truth in that observation. Some truth, ha! I swell up so much that elephantiasis victims pity me. I've been mistaken for the Michelin man. (Okay, I've been mistaken for him when I haven't been bit, too. Shut up.) You could do worse with your money than to buy stock into companies who manufacture hydrocortisone cream. I have their toll-free ordering numbers on speed dial in my cell phone.
      So basically when spring and summer come around, I retreat back inside my house, away from the insects. I try to not be depressed about it. But when people say a black cloud hovers over me, they’re right. That cloud is composed of hungry bugs.

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