Why Bumble Bees are Jerkwads

There are more bugs, insects and arachnids on this planet than there are people. That fact alone terrifies me. Especially in the spring/summer months.

And unlike most people, I really hate the spring and summer months. Not because the sun ruins my beautiful winter moon-glow and I sweat from crevices that naturally shouldn't sweat. Although those are two more good reasons to hate May through September. I hate em because of the hordes of crawling, flying, burrowing bugs that insist on pissing me off.

The bastards that annoy me the most are the bees. The big fat bumblebees in particular. I get that they are part of the Earth's plan to help pollinate the flowers and keep food production humming. But after centuries of evolution, can someone explain to me why they are jerkwads?

They fly around my porch which is made of stone and there are NO FLOWERS around at all. And still they hover around my head and attack me for no reason.

I'm not a flower or a plant that needs pollinating so reproduction can occur. I'm a 50 plus woman who through a procedure known to most women as, "Shut up and yank that shit out. It's as if a baby seal is bludgeoned in my pants every month."  

I have been unfertilized and I'm happy to be so.

But for weeks this one particular bumble bee, who was bulked up on steroids and extra cheese pizza, would wait until I would come home from work and harass me to the point of insanity.

It started with simply ramming me in the head with it's nasty bee body...daily. So I bought a tennis racked and threatened it. For awhile it worked. It feared me. I thought, "Yes, puny bee bastard, fear me! For I am bigger than you and have a tennis racket." Even though I knew my aim was so bad that  hitting the toilet while sitting down to pee was often a challenge. I'm embarassed to admit I peed in my own face once.

Eventually, It sensed my false bravado.

Last week the attacks became violent. One particular blow to my head knocked me to the ground! But it didn't end there. The bumble bee took advantage of the situation and rifled through my purse stealing my last two-dollars and a Canadian penny from my wallet. Apparently, this bee pays a disenfranchised Chinese bee to pollinate shit for him! I was appalled. Even the damn bees are outsourcing their services, and with slave labor to boot!

The next day it cornered me at the top of my porch steps. This time it was wearing a ski mask. I didn't risk telling the buzzing thug that its anonymity was lost on me and the mask was kinda pointless. Truthfully, I couldn't pick its fuzzy yellow and black bumblebee ass out of a line-up.

But what was worse was that he was high on some sort of 'bee' crack. You could tell by the way he was flying sideways, slurring his buzzes and occassionally resting on my porch wall. At one point he defecated on himself. I took that opportunity to run into my house. He just sat on the wall for while and eyeballed me. I couldn't be certain but I think he was stuck in his own poop. Secretly, I laughed.

Now I have to drive around the block a few times before I pull into my driveway to make sure this thug bee is off roughing up one of the neighbors. I think it pressured the lady next door into a life of prostitution. But the joke is on that stupid bee. She's 89 and was just diagnosed with some sort of aggressive skin cancer of the labia or elbow. He may only get two or three good months out of her.