cimmerian

The worst time to start riding a bicycle is in gnat season. If only I could live in a concrete jungle, an asphalt and cement wonderland free of the dull and meaningless strips of grass that line every sidewalk in Sarasota. For it is in those insipid mini-lawns that the gnat larvae spawn into tiny black airborne specks, multitudinous swarms of insectoid nuisance that wait for my approach. And they light upon me and become stuck to me. They drink my sweat and even drown in my highly acidic perspiration. Until at last my hair, clothes and skin are coated in a buggy micro-chitinous mud of my own bodily secretions and dissolved insect parts.

Some gnats are crafty. They go for the extra-salty goodness of my basal tears.
From Wiki:

Lipids, glucose, sodium and potassium? It's like a fucking feast for those bastards. Stay out of my eyes you damned dirty gnats!

The worst are the little kamikaze fuckers. They shoot right up my nose or they use their heightened gnat awareness to time my breathing and fly down my throat when I take my next deep breath. Invading my respiratory tract, planting their little gnat eggs in the alveoli of my lungs. *retch*


Sunday marked my ten years of tenure with my current employer. Next year I can take up to FOUR weeks of vacation!