Sunday, May 29, 2005

WASPS: the bullies of the insect world

May 29th, 2005

Why am I scared to death of WASPS?

Picture this: You're walking down a beautiful green forest, enjoying the smell of the pines, the coolness of the breeze on your skin, the wild sounds of nature... Only one thing is keeping this moment from being among the most calming and relaxing moments of your life. It's this damn FLY that keeps buzzing by your ear. IT zips once by your ear...


You swat with your hand...but only succeed in boxing your ear. It hurts. You think maybe you scared IT away...this bastard INSECT that has ruined your moment of perfect serenity...but a moment later you hear IT again, and this time IT seems to go right into your ear!


Again, your hand automatically goes for your ear and attempts to swat the THING away. But this FLY is a ghost, a phantom, an apparition...perhaps even a figment of your wandering imagination. However, you now focus your mind solely on this problem, and your hand is ready as the third


happens. Your reaction is quicker than you expected. Like a deadly gunslinger drawing his gun from its holster, your hand rises and...makes contact!!! But instantly your mind tells you that something is not right. Your hand made contact with something that either was a fly on steroids, or was not a fly at all. The next few seconds are in slow motion. Your head turns to see what kind of devilish THING you've just made angry. The corner of your eye catches SOMETHING obviously bigger than a fly...something black...with a hint of yellow...

and IT is flying straight at your face!

Your legs begin moving forward, but you're in slow're no match for a BEING who lives life in fast forward. As your head starts to turn back to the direction your legs are running, you know you're only postponing the inevitable. The sting comes in the middle of your yell...


Okay, back to normal speed. Oh, the pain! Your fists clench, your teeth gnash, your feet stamp. But what can you do? Nothing. Just take it like a man. But you're not a're only 12 years old. You're not just a boy. You're a young boy. The tears start to well up in your eyes, but you fight them back. Somebody at some point told you "Tough Boys Don't Cry". This thought is embedded in you now, and has been in you since you could walk. But you almost abandon it...all because of one INSECT, barely even the size of a peanut.

In the end, your mom puts baking soda on the large, raw-red bump on your neck. It doesn't still burns. But the potential for tears is gone. Now you're just furious. Furious that the heinous CULPRIT is still out there, bullying other creatures that are only out enjoying life. A bee dies after it stings you. A WASP just laughs at your pain. Why couldn't it be the other way around?

I hate WASPS.


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