All because I was too stupid to move the damn chair 4 inches to the left...
Not making light of your accident, but I think we can all agree that 4 inches will get you into trouble every time.
Attacked by bald faced hornets (actually a species of yellowjacket) on our front step. I went offensive against them. Getting stung, and the species likes to go for your face, I managed to crash off the steps in the middle of the melee. I lost a lot of skin off my legs because I was in shorts and the steps are concrete.
Then, lying on the ground, another stung me and I grabbed it, smashing it onto the concrete steps so hard I broke my watch and scraped up my wrist. That was the last of the attackers; the rest were smashed, dead, out of action.
Not done yet. I was a bit upset.
Grabbed the broom, went after the nest. Stung again, but the nest was destroyed and the big female who started the nest dead. I went inside to clean my wounds with soap and slam down some Jack Daniels before falling asleep on the couch while trying to watch "Maneater of Hydra." Katie gets home after working late, finds me on the couch covered in blood, freaks out and wakes me up to find out what happened.
I was a little grumpy about being woken up.
Uh, hillbilly, now there is a wonderful invention called hornet and wasp spray that you can use from a safe distance.
I think a variation of a Jeff Foxworthy routine would aptly apply here:
If you see a hornet's nest and going into hand-to-hand combat with them is your first thought; you might be a jarhead.
