Thursday, August 7, 2008

"YellowJackets Are Your Friends" - Fact or Fiction?

I'm sure with the elevated collective intelligence of my readers, you can pretty much see whats coming.

Last evening I went out to cut the grass. Now, a lot of people bitch about this task but it is something I truly enjoy. Besides the obvious sense of accomplishment, I always strive to have that 'best looking lawn' in the neighborhood tag. I work hard at it, put down about a million fuckin tons of lawn shit, water the fuck out of it, and cut it at least twice per week. In my area, especially this time of summer, most lawns look like they're located in the middle of the fucking Gobi desert. Nope........not mine. My neighbors have come to expect this and I feel obligated to oblige. I get that 'lookin good' nod when they walk by and I'm out working on it.

Anyway, I always start with the front and I use my push mower for this. It looks better afterwards than if I had used my lawn tractor. I use the rider only for the backyard. Partly due to the size of the area I have to cut, partly due to the fact it is faster, and partly due to the fact that its out of view of most so I don't need it to look as 'pristine'.

I finish the front, get the rider and start on the back. I'm pretty much in a quasi-dream state when I'm on this. I really don't pay that much attention to what I'm doing because I'm in 'auto-cut' mode. There are times that I'm actually surprised when I realize I'm done. Its just that automatic.

I was cutting around a spot where a tree had once been. Kind of a concave area where the grass tends to grow higher because I really can't get the rider all the way in there. To do it properly, I have to use the weedeater. Last night I said 'fuck that', I'll ease in there, cut what I can, and then ease out. Well, the 'easin in' went fine. I say 'ease' because if you go to far, the rider's tires have a tendency to spin when you try to back out and if you're not careful, you'll find yourself stuck. So, I'm 'in there', slowly inching forward, when I see this 'cloud' out of the corner of my eye. Hmmm...wtf? Musta stirred up some moths or some shit. I was right, it was the latter, 'some shit'. Ok, I may talk kinda big sometimes, but I'll admit, as soon as I realized that the 'some shit' was actually a fuckin pissed off swarm of Yellowjackets looking to inflict as much motherfuckin pain as 'insectily' possible, I was in full motherfuckin panic mode. Thank God I was on the rider, if I'd been on my feet, ground level, these little cocksuckers woulda stung me to death. As it was, during 'panic mode', I had crossed that line of no return with the rider. No fuckin way was I going to back-up, no fuckin way was I going to 'ease' anyfuckingwhere. Even though I risked fuckin up my mower, I slammed the fucker into the 'getmethefuckouttahere speed' gear and practically went airborne getting outta there. All the while, I'm swattin with one hand and trying to hold on with the other. The little motherfuckers are all around me and I can feel them bounce off my hand as I desparately try to do everything in my power not to get stung. Uh.....no such fuckin luck. Got tagged twice on top of one foot and once on my wrist. Probably the same fucker got me both times on the foot. The wrist one wasn't too bad so I must have either swatted him off before he really sunk in or he got brushed off when I drove through the fuckin Spruce tree in my haste to escape.

If you have never experienced the intense pain of a YellowJacket sting, then you have definitely missed out. These flying hypodermics hurt like a motherfucker. As a matter of fact, that is the word I kept using over and over and over and over. Not the first time I had the pleasure, more like the 7th or 8th and its funny, one would think you'd never forget just how bad these fuckin things can hurt.

The 'aftermath' is not good. My foot was as red as a fuckin apple and swollen twice the fuckin size. Plus, as a bonus, the pain was relentless. MOTHERFUCK! I knew from my past encounters, not much you can do. I took a handful of aspirins and rigged up a zip-lock bag full of ice which I cleverly held in place by a fuckin rubber band. The ice was the only thing that helped because it froze the fuck outta my foot and helped with the swelling. 'Course, I had to put ice in the fucker every hour or so. I knew it was time to do this when I'd awake feeling like someone was shoving a hot needle in my foot. This went on for about 7 hours until it subsided enough that I could sleep through what was left of the night. Better today, not as red, not as swollen, and the pain is ok.

Next up.......My quest to destroy the fuckin nest and inflict as much tortuous pain as humanly possible on these motherfuckers. Uh...ever hear of 'Poor Mans Napalm?'. Will explain later.

2 comments:

Evil Twin's Wife said...

Yes, yellowjackets must die. Those MFers don't even really need a reason to attack - sometimes they just DO, out of spite. I HATE them.

Elle said...

Holy shit! I find it hard to believe the word hadn't spread amongst the little bastards as to whose yard they were effing with!

Burn, mfr, burn! Oh btw, one time I got stung and the unfortunate first husband cut an onion in half and told me to hold the cut side down on the sting. It worked, took much of the "bite" away. (Ok fine, he was actually good for TWO things. )