I have bug bites on my ass, and I am not being a good sport about it.
I have bug bites on my ass, because I never go outdoors if I can help it, and so I forgot about bugs until my friends' BBQ/Wedding Reception/Kegger this weekend. I put on my pretty new polka-dotted dress and my bright pink sandals and headed out to the BBQ, as if to an outdoor-themed party at an indoor bar. When I got there, my friend Aaron offered me some bug spray and I recoiled.
"But you won't be able to smell my pretty pretty perfume through the DEET," I said.
"How nice do you think you'll smell with Equine Encephalitis?" he asked.
It's really disturbing that my friends know me so well. I wavered for a moment, swayed by my hypochondria. In the end, however, vanity won out. As it often does. And now I'm covered with bug bites. I even have one on my face. ON MY PRETTY PRETTY FACE. I'm such a dope.
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