tick tock

Today at Smokey House we went on a hike to the beaver pond, and I got a couple ticks on me. And I absolutely hate ticks. The first tick I found in the van on my chest, and I ripped it off and gave the demon the fiery death it deserved. The next one I found behind me ear at the table, and I gave that one a fiery death, too. The third one I was sitting here with my blog post and I felt it crawling on my left buttock. I put it in the sink and it went down when I washed my hands. I hate ’em. They should all go back to the fiery hellhole they came from.

I was the only one who found any on them, which is stupid. The reason why is because I ventured off where other people didn’t dare to. I was looking at prints, trying to find tracks. I found a deer track, bigfoot print, and some print I couldn’t identify. The venturing off was not worth getting them ticks over, because they carry lime disease and they’re just evil little creatures that deserve the fiery death that they will get. ticks


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