Kanye Mosquitos: Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger

This is not going to be a very substantial post, I'm warning you now:

I just want to announce to the world, that New Orleans mosquitoes are no joke. In fact, they're very unfunny. They're aggressive and mean and, on top of it all, sneaky. After a single Saturday evening at an outdoor jam session I had twelve, (I counted) bites covering my legs, ankles, feet and arms. Granted, we were dancing on the grass and may have been disturbing their habitat. But they can fly, and could have moved. Twelve bites on one host just seems a bit vindictive to me.

There is also a great deal of standing water in the Upper Ninth Ward, where we were, and they could have bred elsewhere. We, however, could not really have visited many other places in the area, which isn't much a tourist spot. So, they clearly weren't paying fair.

They also weren't playing fair last night, when they ate me alive during our vampire and ghost tour, which ended up being more informative about slaves in early New Orleans than any ghosts. Apparently, slave quarters are now outfitted with slate counter tops and floors, and are well insulated so that one's music can be turned as loud as the mood calls for. And, while I'm absorbing this information from our very blond, very middle aged and southern tour guide, the little buggers managed get me five times.

In short, the mosquitoes are not nice. And, since the current refrain in my head is "itch itch, don't scratch", I chose to ignore all other experiences for this post. Please reference other blogs for more details on the wine bar and how I felt about the "ghost" tour.