Poor, beautiful legs!
Mosquito’s three square meals.
Canuck blood too sweet.
I am seriously starting to wonder if my blood is laced with the mosquito version of crack cocaine. I have been bitten an unseemly number of times.
It takes me back to my time in South Korea. One year, I tried to hike up Hallasan with my brother. (We failed, because I was then slow and out of shape, thus missing the summit cutoff time at the last checkpoint by half an hour.) I counted the number of mosquito bites on my legs: 30-32, if I recall correctly. My brother? Two or three.