Sixty-Five Mosquito Bites

And that’s just the ones I can see

There are more on my back, butt, and legs. There are likely a hundred or so mosquitos at Turkey Point using my blood to supply protein to their developing eggs.
These are not ordinary mosquitos. These are stealth vampire aliens with silencers on their wings. No buzz to warn you and a delayed skin sensation as they’re drilling.
Turkey Point is on Lake Erie, which takes in all the detritus, flotsam and jetsam from three other Great Lakes. And God knows what kind of crap comes in from the St. Clair river with its many chemical refineries or from the four large cities, Detroit, Toledo, Cleveland, and Buffalo. If you watch movies, you’ll know that sewage and chemicals play havoc with DNA and produce abominations like pig-men and killer slugs.
Evolution relies on mutations. These anomalies must have some survival benefit, or the host won’t last long enough to procreate. It would take tens of thousands of years for humans to develop Haz-Mat skin or the kind of antibodies that allow vultures to eat road kill because each generation averages about 30 years. A mosquito generation is about 10 days. That’s as many as 18 opportunities from April to October for a random mutation to improve the survival of the little pests and increase the amount of bug fucking to pass it on.
These particular mosquitos at Turkey Point have evolved into a new menacing creature capable of quietly draining all your life juices. In no time at all, you’ll have a prune face and your pants won’t stay up. You’re wrong if you think increasing your blood alcohol content will make you less desirable. The after-dinner beer and shooter ritual around the campfire is happy hour for Lake Erie mosquitos.