The word of the day is: HOLY SHIT
HOLY SHIT. Before I go on with this post let me give you a brief background of my history with bees:
- Six years old. Playing in my friend's, Steven, front yard. I step on a bee (by accident) and receive my first sting.
- Seven years old. I'm at a soccer tournament that my brother is playing in. I have to go to the bathroom. A yellowjacket flies into my jacket while i'm running to the bathroom. At least I get to go to the bathroom before it viciously stings my left arm 4 times.
- Eight years old. My family is walking along the railroad tracks by the creek by my house. We all hear this scary buzzing and then we notice we are very close to a bee's nest and they don't seem to like that. They swarm at us and we all start to run, except my Dad. He stays behind and the bees start to sting him over and over and eventually just go away. I don't remember if he was hospitalized or not (i only know the part about my dad because my mom told me, i just remember running away).
That's about it. Ever since then I've tried my best to stay the hell away from bees. I'm afraid of them now. The little winged terrors.
Now on to the events of today.
I decide to go over to my Dad's house to do some swimming. Everything seems fine and dandy, but when I get into the kitchen I hear a *buzz buzz*. At first I wasn't too alarmed. I saw a bee struggling against the window like it was dying/dying to get out. Given my past with bees I decide to kill it. *Smack* with a newspaper and it goes down for the count. That is when I hear a LOT more buzzing coming from the living room. I cautiously make my way into the living room and look to my left where the window to the backyard is. The blinds are drawn so all I see is a hundred silouhettes of angry bees dancing along the blinds. Needless to say I'm pretty freaked out, especially because they were IN THE HOUSE. "AH HOLY SHIT!" I'm thinking. In my last moments in the house before I run out of there like a little baby, I write a note to my dad and leave it on the kitchen counter (the kitchen had only that one bee so it seemed like a relatively safe area). THEN I hear MORE buzzing. I look at the other window in the living room and that's crawling with them too! I don't remember if I screamed or anything, but I probably did. I hate bees.
I run out of the house to my car. Yep. Holy shit. They were on my car too. I open the car door and close it as fast as I possibly can and drive back to my Mom's. No bee's there! Well... except for one that must have snuck in under my clothes. After about five minutes of relaxing here (my Mom's) I feel a sharp pain on my leg. I freak out (naturally) and take my pants off faster than a virgin on prom night. I see this little piece of crap bee fall down with half of it's ass stuck in my leg. Great. Thanks a lot you little fucker bee.
ADDED TO MY HISTORY WITH BEES:
- Twenty years old. Bees swarm in my dad's house. I freak out. They swarm on my car. I drive to my mom's where one stings me on my thigh.
Oh, and have any of you heard a swarm of angry bees before? It's horrifying. It makes it hard to think and scares the crap out of me. I never want to hear it again :(
HOLY SHIT. Before I go on with this post let me give you a brief background of my history with bees:
- Six years old. Playing in my friend's, Steven, front yard. I step on a bee (by accident) and receive my first sting.
- Seven years old. I'm at a soccer tournament that my brother is playing in. I have to go to the bathroom. A yellowjacket flies into my jacket while i'm running to the bathroom. At least I get to go to the bathroom before it viciously stings my left arm 4 times.
- Eight years old. My family is walking along the railroad tracks by the creek by my house. We all hear this scary buzzing and then we notice we are very close to a bee's nest and they don't seem to like that. They swarm at us and we all start to run, except my Dad. He stays behind and the bees start to sting him over and over and eventually just go away. I don't remember if he was hospitalized or not (i only know the part about my dad because my mom told me, i just remember running away).
That's about it. Ever since then I've tried my best to stay the hell away from bees. I'm afraid of them now. The little winged terrors.
Now on to the events of today.
I decide to go over to my Dad's house to do some swimming. Everything seems fine and dandy, but when I get into the kitchen I hear a *buzz buzz*. At first I wasn't too alarmed. I saw a bee struggling against the window like it was dying/dying to get out. Given my past with bees I decide to kill it. *Smack* with a newspaper and it goes down for the count. That is when I hear a LOT more buzzing coming from the living room. I cautiously make my way into the living room and look to my left where the window to the backyard is. The blinds are drawn so all I see is a hundred silouhettes of angry bees dancing along the blinds. Needless to say I'm pretty freaked out, especially because they were IN THE HOUSE. "AH HOLY SHIT!" I'm thinking. In my last moments in the house before I run out of there like a little baby, I write a note to my dad and leave it on the kitchen counter (the kitchen had only that one bee so it seemed like a relatively safe area). THEN I hear MORE buzzing. I look at the other window in the living room and that's crawling with them too! I don't remember if I screamed or anything, but I probably did. I hate bees.
I run out of the house to my car. Yep. Holy shit. They were on my car too. I open the car door and close it as fast as I possibly can and drive back to my Mom's. No bee's there! Well... except for one that must have snuck in under my clothes. After about five minutes of relaxing here (my Mom's) I feel a sharp pain on my leg. I freak out (naturally) and take my pants off faster than a virgin on prom night. I see this little piece of crap bee fall down with half of it's ass stuck in my leg. Great. Thanks a lot you little fucker bee.
ADDED TO MY HISTORY WITH BEES:
- Twenty years old. Bees swarm in my dad's house. I freak out. They swarm on my car. I drive to my mom's where one stings me on my thigh.
Oh, and have any of you heard a swarm of angry bees before? It's horrifying. It makes it hard to think and scares the crap out of me. I never want to hear it again :(
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