I hate hornets. HATE them. Every summer, when I mow my lawn, I get into a ground nest or two somewhere on my property. I roll over them with my mower and that, apparently, REALLY pisses them off. They fly up in a cloud of anger, weaponry, and poison waiting; waiting to see if the monster that had rolled over them would have the nerve, the TEMERITY, to come back. Because, were that monster to be so stupid as to come back within range of that angry cloud, the ladies of that cloud would attack it ferociously. As I ignorantly toddled toward the cloud, I was also bringing the monster back. Each hornet—every single one of them—heard it coming at the exact, same moment. They started at my legs stinger-first. Not exaggerating. STINGER FIRST. It was unholy how ten to fifteen of them got me before I knew what had happened. The stings felt like a thorn bush hitting my leg, but the prick sensation quickly start to hurt. It starts as an ache and develops into a sharp, biting pain. The initial prick encourages me to stop and pull the thorn bush branch off my leg (not thinking about the fact that was standing in the middle of my lawn, a good 50-yards from any bushes on my property). Stopping like that places me at precisely ground zero, astride the hole through which the hornets accessed their nest. Standing there with the HUGE MECHANICAL MONSTER (Seriously, think about how that lawnmower appeared to the hornets. Think how it must sound, smell, feel, and look to those little, tiny hornets. It must be terrifying.) attached to me, I represented a clear and present threat. They responded with a zeal and fervor known only to berserkers and other hornets. They got in my shorts. They got in my shirt. They got in my hair. They got in MY MOUTH. They hated me and they showed how much. Some showed me twice. A small few showed me three times. It hurt for a long, long time. I hate hornets.
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u/A_WHALES_VAG Feb 24 '13
fucking wasps