They Call Me “Sweet Feet.”
I have fifteen mosquito bites–on my feet. I was sitting on the porch, absent-mindedly smoking a cigarette and praying for thunder, when an army of miniscule insects apparently decided to feast on my foots. All at once. By the time I noticed the first itch, it was too late to go get socks, as both of my feet were already polka-dotted with little hideously itchy bumps. I’m going to have to fill my socks with Hydrocortizone before I go to bed if I want to get any sleep at all.
The up side is that if I ever need to torture someone, I’ve got a new and creative method to deploy…
