More about the torn apart Stugar leg (or) The fly and other insects that want to eat my flesh.

[For backstory, see Stugar]

Let's go back to that all-so-traumatizing camping trip during which, at one point, I was sure a cougar was going to pounce on my back and bite my neck and drag me off into the woods and feed me to her cubs (kittens?).


Day 2 of camping:

My leg was gushing pretty bad, especially the knee. And especially over night all over my blanket. Gross... Anyways, I think I was a good sport about things; went for a swim in the morning (fish bait, I know...), hiked around, and pretty much did everything that everyone else did.

Now. Picture me, in shorts and a tee, sitting by the lake, feet dangling in water. Tranquility...*sigh*...but then! I looked down and there was a big fat black fly sitting in knee gush EATING IT!!! *shivers* Uck! And so I freaked out and had to talk myself off the ledge.


A couple days later...

Open Scene: Linda has just closed the bedroom door and is laying in bed watching a fly on the ceiling rub his icky little back legs together.

Me: (Too lazy to go on fly swatting mission) I’m just going to open the door again so the fly can buzz his way outta here. *opens door*

BF: *Tauntingly* But if he stays in here he can snack on your knee while you sleep.

Me: *Crazy arms/legs, smacks BF* Ewe! That’s fucking si-

BF: *Singing* It’s the circle of liiife…

Me: *Continuing to thrash* Eaaaah! Stop…

BF: *Convincingly* Hey. Calm down. *Smiles* Hakuna Matata.

Me: Hakuna Matata?

BF: Yeah. *Shrugs shoulders matter-of-fact-ly* Hakuna Matata.

Me: *Shakes head. Eye roll.*

BF: *Grabs boobs and shakes vigorously. Crazy eyes* Hakuna Ma-tah-tahs!!!

They're really singing about boobs.

And then the next day: 

I was just standing around outside minding my own business and I felt something on my leg and looked down and WASP EATING KNEE!! WASP EATING KNEE!!! Ahh...Shake it off. Shake it off. Deep breaths...it's ok...it's all over now...you're ok...

But seriously! *Stamps foot* Gawd...

Can't they eat someone else's wound? 

Stugar

My older brother Stu is the type of guy who you cannot feel at ease around. He is always out to get someone. And if you manage to get him, he'll only get you worse. Countless times he has instigated water fights (I even ended up wearing a bucket of water on my last birthday); he woke up his buddy by shooting him with a paint-ball gun; he ripped marshmallows in half and stuck them to a coworker's tires; he lit firecrackers in the room his friend and his friend's girlfriend were sleeping in; and, worst of all (I think,) he took the chain off a chainsaw, put on a mask, and woke up his buddy by revving the saw and 'sawing' him. 

On my second day at my new 'professional' job, he left this note on my car:

It reads: "Just thought I'd stop by to give you some words of encouragement the day. 1) Bananas (the way you drive) 2) Arsome (some butt) 3) Linder (really good chocolate u should buy with your first paycheque) 4) Sitka (the type of tree I loaded today) 5) Lugnuts (you should probably check them. I was here) 6) Job (something we have in common.)
By the way, I'm watching u.     Stu.

Seemed nice at first, but then I got to the part about the lugnuts...

Anyways, the list goes on, but I think I've made my point: my brother cannot be trusted. However, I still somehow give him the benefit of the doubt.

Last week he called and invited me and the bf camping with him and his wife. I told him we'd make it. Got there. Swam in lake. Ate food. Drank beer. Sun set. Sat by fire and talked/told stories (one of the topics covered was the recent bear and cougar sightings and I distinctly remember saying I would shit myself if I ever crossed a cougar.) Had to pee. 

Being that I live in the forest and use an outhouse at home, I had no problem walking to the outhouse by myself in the dark with no flashlight. 

At this point, considering the setting and the aforementioned topic of conversation re: cougars, you're probably thinking, "You've totally just set yourself up," or "Haven't you learnt your lesson yet?" or "Ooo, this should be good." My reply to you: good god can't I just relax and not expect to be traumatized at least one night that I hang out in the general vicinity of him?!

So, guard down, I finished in the bathroom and was walking back to the site when I head growling from the bush behind me and sudden, fast sounds of whipping branches (as if something - or someone - was running through them.)

And I booked it. As fast as I could. In the dark. Yelling. Ran down hill to site and bailed. Hard. 

And my brother took up the rear with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

So I threw rocks in his face and punched and kicked him while yelling vulgarities and profanity. 

The result of his 'getting' me: 

I look like a 12 year old who can't ride her bike. And I have been taking the flashlight with me to the outhouse. 

Any ideas of how I can retaliate? 

ps - shout out to Dani, at bumponablog24.wordpress.com, who coined 'Stugar'. :)