God, I hate mosquitoes! Not dislike, not can't stand; I loathe the little f---ers.
It was bad enough in the mountains of Colorado, where you'd spend half the night fruitlessly hunting that endless whine near your ear, and end up nearly knocking yourself senseless, flailing away at the little brown beastie. Wussies, I tell you!
Now I live in the land of the Asian Tiger. You thought they named their economies that because it was a cool animal, right? Bzzz! Wrong-o! They named them after their mosquito, surely the Arnold of mosquitoes. No stealth attacks here, just, "Swing at me, I don't care. I'll be back!" They don't just whine; they sound like the mother of all dentist drills running in your ear. Like a whole squadron of Mitsubishi Zeros, just bent upon ruining your sleep. They're black, with white speed striping, like color-blind bee wanna-bes (wanna-bees?).
These are the same breed that carry West Nile Disease in the States, black with two or three thin white bands around the body; it's hard to tell after you've squashed the little shit. I bought a cool little battery-operated tennis racket; just push the button and swing - ZAP! Sometimes they even smoke and burn. Cool...
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