I have fleas. The mobile home is infested with the minuscule monsters. They have been lying in wait for a new host. Two days after we got here, I noticed Beeboo scratching, so I went to the tack/pet store and got him some Advantage. Then I noticed that I had some mosquito bites in some very weird places. It's not mosquitoes... I have fleas. They have abandoned Beeboo in favor of a non toxic human smorgasbord.
So last night Eugene and I made the trek to Gainesville, home of the closest PetSmart. He needed his gourmet Blue Buffalo Whitefish and Sweet potato dog food (I kid you not... it's like $40 a bag) and I needed 10 kinds of flea death. I have begun a campaign of poisonous vengeance against them. I can feel my IQ dropping with each successive spray treatment.
We also visited what passes for a gay bar in Gainesville. A sad little establishment, in a burned out strip mall, with tacky wood paneling, a couple of strings of Christmas lights and a 300 pound drag queen behind the bar. I'm thinking north Florida is not a great place to be gay. Although, I did get a couple of really good margaritas and an audience for my parade of dirty penguin jokes.
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