I truly believe there is no God.

Why?

Because as of today, a bevy of chigger bites have appeared on my skin.

Chiggers are the herpes of nature. They give you bites that itch something fierce, and itch even more when scratched. Then you think it’s all over and hours later your clothing will ever so gently touch your skin, the wind blows the wrong direction, whatever, and the shit flares up all over again. Being a seasoned chigger victim, I know for a fact that this insanity will now go on for weeks before letting up. If there were a God, he/she/it would not have created such an insipid, destructive creature. Their existence is even more useless than mosquitoes, because at least skeetos make for good bat food. Chiggers are not cute. Unlike fleas, you cannot train them to become circus performers. I seriously doubt that chiggers are ranked very high in the food chain or that other animals prey upon them. So why are they here?

Give me one good reason why chiggers need to exist, please. I bet you’re at a loss for words. Why? Because much like Celine Dion CDs, there are no good reasons for chiggers to exist. They leach onto you without first asking, which is very rude mind you, and poke multiple teeny little itchy holes into your skin that drive you to the point of self defenestration.

As you may have read in the informative documentation I linked to at the beginning of this piss and moan session, you get ’em from traipsing through nature. The most nature I’ve been through is mown grass here on my parent’s acreage the other day for a minute or two. As a result of walking on the mown grass which I thought would be safe, I noticed chigger bites on my ankles. Okay, understandable, I guess. Ankles are fair game, I’ll give them that one. They’re close to the ground and are connected to your feet – the very utensils you use to transport yourself through mown grass.

But after awakening from a nap today, I came to realize that areas of my person at much-higher-than-ankle altitude have been overthrown by these little fuckers. I can count at least 6 areas on my upper legs with some hella itchy chigger bite areas, and worse yet, 2 chigger patches have now appeared on my hips. And I’m sure more will appear in due time.

My hips. I did not roll naked in the well manicured, yet chigger-infested pastures that surround Rancho Relaxo, yet one would swear I did by the looks of my skin.

So here I sit itching myself until my skin burns. And then the itch subsides – only to be replaced by intense post-itching burn.

Screw you, chiggers. Let this be a warning to all of you: If I spot even the slightest sign of your handiwork near my junk (a.k.a. the Privates, the jewels, the lower abdominal area, etc.), I’m going to have to take that giant gas can out in Dad’s garage, water the lawn with it, and throw a lit match on it from a safe distance. I will watch your sorry asses burn in sweet Hell, and will love every minute of it.

Good day.