Itchin' for a fight

Everyone should have a purpose. Every summer I am reminded of one of mine. Mosquito smorgasbord.

It has been pointed out to me on a number of occasions that out of all the boys, I am the one that looks the most like my dad. However, while I may have come out looking like a Mini Dad I do not have one of his most enviable traits.

He is mosquito proof.

You must have met someone like that. Mosquitoes don't even land on them. Or, if they do, they quickly think better of it and take off without even trying to grab lunch. A nurse friend once explained the phenomena to me and I seem to remember that is has something to do with how much vitamin B you have in your system. Whatever the case, they just leave Johnny alone.

Lil' me on the other hand, is just chock full of fucking tasty mosquito goodness. And nothing it would seem tastes quite so good as my ass.

I swear, the little bastards do it on purpose, because as we all know, there is nothing funnier than some short, scary looking, heavily tattooed guy trying to inconspicuously scratch their ass in public. Though, come to think of it this might work to my benefit on public transportation. Even if it doesn't get me a seat, it could clear my personal space a little.

And it seems like the city has turned into a pest swamp. The damned things are everywhere. I walk out the door and I am immediately attacked. Last night a swarm of mosquitoes found their way into my apartment and I wound up putting on insect repellent before going to bed! This morning as I was trying to get through my routine at the gym I kept getting buzzed while I was trying to lift weights. All I had to do was put down the weights and they would fly out of swatting range and deranged as I am, I was not going to start chasing mosquitoes around the gym.

Unless I come down with West Nile virus, Equine Encephalitis or Yellow Fever it really is in the great scheme of things a rather minor annoyance and I suppose I would rather itch and be warm than put up with winter weather and be mosquito free.

But I really do have to start spraying my shorts with bug repellent.

The memo must have gone out.

I snuck out for coffee this afternoon with La Simpatica. She needed a break from her boss/office mate and I just needed a break. We went over to the Dunkin' Donuts (hey, nothin' but the best for us) and were kibitzing about life, over iced coffee while holding a bench down.

As we were sitting there, I happened to notice an undergrad passing our way. What caught my eye were the facts that 1) he had really nice auburn hair. 2) he was cute and built (believe me not all that common on our campus) and 3) the dirty little urchin was checking me out.

I thought I might be deluding myself, 'cause my admirer looked barely old enough to vote and probably wasn't old enough to drink legally. So, I looked over my shoulder after he'd passed and he was rubbernecking in my direction.

I turned to La Simpatica and said, "That dirty little boy was checking me out!"

She just laughed and said, "See, I told you!"

I was beginning to wonder if she was channeling RG.

I thought about it for a second and said something to the effect that it might be flattering, but I was old enough to be the kids father, almost old enough to be his grandfather fer Chistsake.

This led to a discussion of why, as much fun as the younguns' are to look at, you really want someone with a few miles on 'em if you want good sex.

Still, word seems to have gone out that older, gray haired men are a must have on this years shopping list.

I will just have to keep my eyes open and hopefully, I'll catch someone who doesn't need a note from their mother checking me out.

Lions and tigers and foxes.....

I was doing a quick catch up on my blog reading when I came on a post over at This. That. No Other. It would seem that I am now legally sexy. Brett was mentioning an article in the Advocate about the phenomena of "Silver Foxes".

I will now be able to sleep at night.

I am waiting for the menz to start lining up at my door so they can take a crack at me.

Do you think that this is why RG says guys are always cruising me? (Note to self, take gaydar into shop and have it fixed so that I will start noticing these guys that are supposed to be cruising me.)

Maybe this will shut up everyone who's been complaining that my white beard makes me look too old.

It's a bit of a relief really, if I had to start dying all the gray hair so that the carpet matched the drapes, I'd go broke keeping myself supplied in product.

Orchidacea

I might not be entirely enjoying all the humidity that we've been having here in Boston recently, but my orchids are as happy as the proverbial pig.