I was awoken last night in the swealtering heat, semi concious by a high pitch noise. No it wasn’t the crazy wifie from across the road, nor was it that idiot boy on a scooter running up and down the streets – I think from now on he shall be christend ‘Scooter Twat’.
I thought I was dreaming, thought nothing of it, turned over and fell back into a restless slumber…………….I awoke this morning (slowly), as most mornings to the radio with the lovely Alice Cooper and his own brand of humour, as I lent back in bed I realised my upper right arm was sore. What the hell was wrong with me?
On closer inspection I discovered that I’d been bitten. Not only on my arm, but also twice on my hip.
It wasn’t a dream last night. That high pitched noise? A blimin Mosquito!! I’ve now got three huge itchy lumps! I don’t react well to mozzy bites. War is declared.
That mozzy had better have enjoyed it’s last meal last night, cause when I find it, it’s gonna be splatted so hard my blood will be pernamently embedded into the wall of the flat, and no amount of cleaning will shift it!
I am on the war path. It’s bad enough having to put up the heat, the pollution, the over crowding, TfL – but mozzies? I will obliterate every single last mozzy I find. It is a dead mozzy, it just doesn’t know it yet.