Freddogg Off The Chain

I walked into the garage at 11 a.m.this morning right through the nest of a wolf spider. I knew the web was all over me so the next thing was to find the actual spider, who is about the size of a half dollar.
Wouldn’t you know that cute little arachnid was right under my left arm. I felt like Sean Connery in that 007 movie where a tarantula was crawling under the covers up his hairy belly and over his shoulder. The key to not getting bitten is to remain calm. Punching myself in my own armpit was pretty calm for me.

Next it was time to cut the grass such as it is in the woods where I live. The last time I cut the grass a greenhead burrowed a hole in my ankle. This time the same thing happened in the same place. “Mother fucker!” I screamed, because it hurt. I went ar0und the yard and back to the same place and got stung again and again and again. I had rolled over a very active yellow jackets in ground nest. At that exact moment the mailman in brown mini van pulled up to my mailbox on the street.

He could see me smacking myself because I had never been under a nest attack before. He yelled he had a can of off and I ran towards the road and several of this sick bitches of nature came after me a couple stinging me on the back of the neck and yes they don’t die they just keep after you. His can of OFF was empty and honest to god he said, ”it’s empty you may as well keep it.”

I found a can of “hotshot” and I know your not supposed to mess with in ground colonies of 10 thousand mindless stingers during the day or stand behind a can of hotshot--but I don't belive in social Darwinism- I did both then I poured lawn mower gas down their stupid fucking hole.

Minutes late workers were back and I’m yelling stupid stuff like "go pull start your fucking unleaded queen."

I commence to cut grass in another location and this has never happened but a full sized brown wasp landed on my shin and stung me. I also called him a mother fucker and then just kept working.

Only this morning I read a cartoon in the New Yorker, a woman was having dinner with a bee and she said, ”It’s not you it’s the anaphylaxis I have a problem with.”

When I was a kid my Uncle Joe’s boxer dug into a nest of yellow jackets and they killed him. I do think they could easily kill a child who would just stand there screaming instead of running.

My neck, fingers, feet and shin hurt like hell. It’s a good thing I got the spider before he got me.

By the way this is all small potatoes-no pun intended-compared to a chigger chewing your scrotum.

Peace Freddogg