Summer Is Harsh, Baby

Where have I been since late Monday evening?  Well, pull up a chair kids, I have a cautionary tale for you.  You might just learn something, or not, but what the hell else do you have to do?  Not a damn thing, since you are here reading me, so, sit the hell down!

Anyway, the great bathing suit/exercise debacle of the PREVIOUS POST was followed by a ride on the Emotionally Menopausal Rollercoaster Of Shame. 

The sweaty trauma train cruised through The Hopeless Tunnel of Youth, across Super Bitch Boulevard, up Hormone Hill, and ultimately stopped at Three Day Bender Station, in the city of Crocked. (Also known as my back yard) 

I put on my best mu-mu, grabbed a cooler full of Corona, a vat of Pirate Rum Punch, and a couple of Willie's smoke-em-if-ya-got-em special cigs.  I carefully plopped onto the new raft in the pool, and proceeded to drift, drink and mourn the loss of my once, greatest asset..., my ample, perky bosom. 

Ok, ok, these babies have always been large and not exactly perky, but in my heyday, I never had a shortage of, onenightstands, suitors, wanting to juggle my giant pleasure orbs. 

Fast forward to the great bathing suit debacle of 2015, and all of a sudden, my 'effin' tits have taken a fucking dive, and my godamn nipples now face due South!  Also, the awesome new udder like shape my breasts have morphed into, could be mistaken for motherfucking bellybutton ears.  Traitorous assholes!

It all gets a bit fuzzy after that because of the ugly crying, the buzz from the cigs, and imbibing until I was ha-aaaamm-ered. 

I passed out, fell asleep, at noon, floating around the pool, in my mu-mu, on a raft.  Five hours later, I wake up and realize that my lovely, generously, free flowing cover up is bunched up between my damn shoulders and neck and there I am, floating around in all of my flubberous glory .

My lucky neighbors got an extended peep show from hell, with bonus snoring, (and maybe farting, whatever, don't judge me!), included. Fan-fucking-tastic!  The Home Owner's Association aught to love this one.

Note to self:  Send booze, fruit baskets and cookies to all neighbors.

Best of all, however, are my southern-pointing bellybutton ears.  They are fire engine red, have changed their name and are trying to get into the witness protection program.

Insect World 1 - Dutchess 0

I hate bugs.  Well, butterflies and lightening bugs are ok, and dragonflies are kinda cool, but as a rule of thumb, all bugs suck.  If they cross my path, try to fly in my hair, (because they always do), or invade my castle, I will kill them.  Nope, I don't feel bad at all, so all of you tree hugging, -ants have feelings too- assholes, sit down.  Save it for someone who gives a shit, m'kay?

Today, the insects hated back.  Let me explain...

Where I live, we are lucky if we have 3 months of summer like weather.  Autumn is rainy, cold and I've had to put snowsuits under my kid's Halloween costumes some years.  Winter is harsh, grey, snowy and ass clenching cold.  Spring doesn't always show up, and when it does it can bring snowstorms, tornadoes, and monsoon like rain, all in the same day.  So, when Summer actually arrives, it also brings a shit load of bugs.  Spiders, bees, june bugs, mosquitoes, ticks, and so on.

This year, there seems to be a lot of hornets.  Those little assholes are sneaky, fast and mean.   The past week, they have been getting into the house, and they seem to congregate in the hallway between the kitchen and bathroom.  Today I killed 4. Seriously.

I have this super high-tech bug killer.  It is the finest electrocuting tennis racket that $10 can buy. I bought it last year because the carpenter bees were eating my deck.  Anyway, I think the battery is dying because it only mildly sparks and makes subtle flesh burning smells when I swat and connect with my victims. 

One of the hornets I killed today fell to the ground still squirming.  I picked him up with a paper towel, put him in the toilet and flushed.  DAMMIT!  The damn hornet and paper towel bobbed back up to the surface.   I flushed again and walked away.

I had a ton of shit, (no pun intended), to get done today, so, along with my 3 glasses of water, I had 2 extra cups of coffee this morning.  Exactly 11 minutes later, I had to pee. Coffee/water in, pee out and all that.

Well, I sat down, started to pee and then? THEN? I felt a sharp, very sharp, stab in my right ass cheek.

That freaking hornet? Hadn’t drowned and was out for motherfucking revenge! I’m guessing that the second time the tiny asshole went around the bowl didn't go down the hole, he floated on his paper towel raft, slowly gathering his strength plotting and prepping for battle. He somehow dragged his ragged,  mildly electrocuted, slightly waterlogged self to the inside of the fucking toilet bowl where I couldn’t see him, and then he fucking pounced.

The aftermath wasn’t pretty.  There may have been some screaming, shrieking, swearing and general mayhem. I also may have ever so slightly rammed my head into the wall as I leaped from my throne of torture in hornet escapism mode.

Of course, I used the zig zag pattern that someone told me I should use when I am trying to escape a predator. That may have only been in the case of a gun attack but at the time, I couldn’t quite think clearly.

So there I was chasing that fucking hornet with my granny panties around my knees as I screamed and flailed.

This time? That little asshole is dead for real.  I seriously already have a fear of toilets, so I ALWAYS look before I sit down.   I once read something about snakes slithering up through the pipes and biting people on the ass. But that hornet? Knew my fear, was crafty and hid.  Score one for the Insect World.  However, take heed you little fuckers, as that was just the battle.  I WILL win the fucking war! 

Well, after the pain in my right ass cheek lessens and the bump on my head goes down.