still puft

dear midwestern mosquitoes of monstrous size,

the eff did i ever do to you?

what trauma did you experience in your past that made you so angry that you now just lash out at strangers and feed off their pain?  what would possess you to bite someone who is massively allergic? were you upset when i once compared vin diesel to stay puft and so you wanted me to know how hard a life stay puft actually has by puffing me up like a swollen marshmallow?  if you had just asked, you would have found out i already know all about that, thanks to youtube and a society of idle minds:

instead, you tried to teach me a lesson.  who do you think you are?  george bluth?

fine.  i recognize that you hold the upper wing here — you will do as you please, and i am helpless in this world against your ways.  but tell me, tell me just why did you have to bite the space between my index and middle finger?  i) it hurts and ii) …

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