I’m a very cynical guy, so I figured I would clue you in on some of the many things I hate. This week, I explain why I detest bees.
I’ve been locked into a bloody war with bees for about the last week or so. Each day, there are bees showing up inside my apartment, and for the life of me, I have not been able to figure out where the fuck they are coming from. It wasn’t a big deal at first; a bee would be flying around and once it landed…BOOM dead. I was handing these creatures L after L. I thought for sure that I was heading towards a swift victory over the little yellow bastards, but sadly this was not the case.
The bees were smarter than I gave them credit for; they started to attack in pairs and even set up ambushes. I had set aside some clothes, for the next day, last night before bed. Today, when I picked up my shirt, it was too late. One of those damn bees stung me right in the hand. I survived to fight another day, but that bee met his fate as I closed my fist around him.
We had bees on the ropes like a year ago. We could have driven them right into extinction. Who fucked that up? I know all you nerds out there will say that we need them to pollinate and all that jazz, but is that really worth me getting stung once in the hand? I mean, what if the bees had chosen my boxers to hide in instead of my shirt?
Fuck bees. They are out to get me. If you are so worried about pollination, I will dress like a bee and go do it myself; I have time.