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Yesterday I got the itch. The irrational itch that comes from thinking about something too much. Something itchy
It was flying ant day. I dislike flying ant day. Normal ants I can pretty much ignore unless they're eating my jam or partying hard in my living room. But flying ants... no - they're a different kettle of formicidae.
Firstly they're bigger and therefore squishier - yak! You have to decide whether to look out for them on the pavement or not. And they're all over the pavement which makes not walking on them quite a chore. I don't want a thick coating of squished ants all over my shoes and carpet! yak yak yak!
Then there's the lack of flying skills. They're ants - they don't tend to get much flying practice in - they're a walking insect. They come into possession of wings for a few hours and scoot about like a crack whore with a jetpack. I got hit by a lot of them last night whilst they were practicing their aeronautics. One went down my cleavage. *shudder* That was the start of the itching. I was pretty sure I wafted it out of the bottom of my top pretty sharpish but boy did I spend the night wriggling after that at the imagined intrusions of confused ants.
But the worse thing about them is the wings. The temporary nature of the wings. They're just waiting to fall off. In your dinner, up your nose, in your eye. Of course I suspect this exacerbates the bad flying too. By the end of my journey home last night (lengthened by going to meet Will at the club and plotting for an hour or so) they were still *everywhere* but now they lacked wings. Leaving me to ponder "where do all the wings go?" Hmm light, aerodynamically designed wings - where might they go when not attached to a fat ant? EVERYWHERE! I bet I have ant wings in my hair, in my lungs and indeed in my pants. Watch as my belly button dances...
/ant rant
It was flying ant day. I dislike flying ant day. Normal ants I can pretty much ignore unless they're eating my jam or partying hard in my living room. But flying ants... no - they're a different kettle of formicidae.
Firstly they're bigger and therefore squishier - yak! You have to decide whether to look out for them on the pavement or not. And they're all over the pavement which makes not walking on them quite a chore. I don't want a thick coating of squished ants all over my shoes and carpet! yak yak yak!
Then there's the lack of flying skills. They're ants - they don't tend to get much flying practice in - they're a walking insect. They come into possession of wings for a few hours and scoot about like a crack whore with a jetpack. I got hit by a lot of them last night whilst they were practicing their aeronautics. One went down my cleavage. *shudder* That was the start of the itching. I was pretty sure I wafted it out of the bottom of my top pretty sharpish but boy did I spend the night wriggling after that at the imagined intrusions of confused ants.
But the worse thing about them is the wings. The temporary nature of the wings. They're just waiting to fall off. In your dinner, up your nose, in your eye. Of course I suspect this exacerbates the bad flying too. By the end of my journey home last night (lengthened by going to meet Will at the club and plotting for an hour or so) they were still *everywhere* but now they lacked wings. Leaving me to ponder "where do all the wings go?" Hmm light, aerodynamically designed wings - where might they go when not attached to a fat ant? EVERYWHERE! I bet I have ant wings in my hair, in my lungs and indeed in my pants. Watch as my belly button dances...
/ant rant
