No one loves Love Bugs.

I like bugs. They're fun to observe. Really. I'm not that girly-girl type. I mean, whatever, Cockroaches make me shudder and ants piss the hell out of me when they get into my food, but otherwise, nature and I got no beef.
Except for Love Bugs. The whole idea of bugs having sex on me is disgusting. Ewww. And they're crawl-y and gross.
They mess up the fronts of cars that just want to get from point A to point B.
So I think a joke is fitting....
What's the last thing to go through a bug's mind as he hits the windshield?
His ass.

Ha.

So Gainesville rocks socks, undoubtedly. The best time to see her is when everyone's asleep. In the day or night, she has a quiet, halcyon quality about her. It makes me want to trade my flip flops for Birks and bathe in patchouli.
Well, not really, but you get the idea. (Madonna is keeping me inline with Immaculate Collection)

And at 10 this morning, with the sky all gray and the air all chilly and clean, all the hangover candidates still abed, I reflected on how much I love this place, especially for school.

Miami's got its goods. Undoubtedly. And the Beach is hard to beat...but
Spanish Moss comes in at a close second.