We're not hemophilic. Not quite.

So I'm sitting here, surfing my wireless broadband connection, idly scratching a vicious mosquito bite on my ankle, when I feel something tickling my foot. Oh hey...it's a fucking STREAM of blood coming from the afore mentioned bite. DAMMIT.

And thus, as I staunched it with a paper napkin, I pondered, once again, all the things that my beloved brother and I have in common: our worldview, our deep love of music, our ability to talk over anyone, and...our tendency to bleed like stuck pigs at the slightest laceration suffered by our milky white skin. Must be the Romanov blood.