You never want to learn the hard way that you have a wasp hive growing in your yard. Four quick stings later, I have learned that I have a wasp hive growing in my yard. I guess I'm not allergic either.
Those suckers are vicious! I was raking up grass near where the hive must be, and then out of nowhere I got stuck on my elbox - and then my ankle - and then they went for the kill. I got two stings high up on my inner thighs. Not only were they protecting their hive, they didn't want me to reproduce either -- a smart tactic to avoid my seed's future potential for destruction of their world. Queue the plot for The (Ex)Terminator.
I ran my best sprint time in years around the corner of my house and jumped through the front door, calling for Amanda to follow me in. I ripped off everything I was wearing, and a wasp flew out of my shorts. He had crossed enemy lines. No longer outnumbered and on my own turf, I decided to take on the wasp. I learned from Dane Cook that all you have to do is punch the wasp in the face.
The wasp was much faster than I was - already flying circles around me. I clenched my fists and took a fighter stance, looking for a pattern in flight so that I could punch the wasp in the face. Keep in mind that I had taken all of my clothes off, so I was dangerously exposed in just boxer briefs. I looked like Jean-Claude Van Damme in Bloodsport, and the floor had been raised. Let that image sink in.
I swung. Miss. I swung again in combination. Miss. Miss. Miss.
Finally I ran into the laundry room frantically and shut the door behind me, whining. The stings hurt, OK?!
I came out when Amanda said the coast was clear and she fixed me up with Cortizone-10 cream.
The wasps may have won the battle, but I have a secret weapon that will end the war tomorrow - wasp spray. I'm dropping the bomb like Truman. I am going Van Damme on their asses!