Above is the result (on me!) of barehandedly killing a "rove beetle." They don't bite, they don't sting, but their internal juices contain a nasty chemical. As with poison ivy, the discoloration tells the viewer where your hands journeyed shortly after the initial contact.
It's more of a stinging sensation than itching. Not a big deal. More than anything, I'm not thrilled about the prospect of repeatedly explaining what it is and what it isn't (NOT herpes!) over the next week...there's a mark on my face, so there's no hiding. But if you google for references to the rove beetle, you're like to find superlatives like "extremely painful" and "more potent than cobra venom." I wouldn't trade 1,000 brushups with the rove beetle for one cluster headache.
The Thai term for these buggers is "duang gon gradot", which translates to something like "ass jumping beetle."
About me...read my blog and hopefully you'll get some sort of gestalt.
One disclaimer: you're not going to learn about my love life, or what I ate for breakfast on this blog. That's tedious stuff, and this blog is here to offer up insight and little pieces of offbeatedness.
Nor will I expound much on politics and the like. That's because I seem to exist in a quantum superposition where both sides usually make pretty good sense, and the wave function doesn't collapse until a molecule of ink hits the ballot. Maybe it's got something to do with being left-handed.
(OK, I'm exaggerating. I voted for Obama. But you get the idea.)