REGARDLESS HOW STRANGE THE WEATHER IS, INSECTS SHOULD NEVER BE USED AS A FASHION STATEMENT.Those poor misguided pests don't know anything except...to synchronize their thermostat-like body clocks to the thermometer...and start the invasion at 80 degrees.
ONE AT A TIME, INSECTS ARE BEAUTIFUL AND NON-THREATENING.
During our recent swelter, the ants were out early, then mosquitoes flew in from Smithville, my neighbor had a termite infestation, the beetles were spotted in little Sergeant Pepper uniforms, some kids laughed at a rhythm-less centipede as it limped across the street and of course the spiders have it best...they're eating like kings.
ONE AT A TIME, INSECTS ARE BEAUTIFUL AND NON-THREATENING.During our recent swelter, the ants were out early, then mosquitoes flew in from Smithville, my neighbor had a termite infestation, the beetles were spotted in little Sergeant Pepper uniforms, some kids laughed at a rhythm-less centipede as it limped across the street and of course the spiders have it best...they're eating like kings.
The unseasonably warm weather lured my dog Roxy out back frequently. So I'm guessing some member of my household got tired of letting her in and out of our yard, and left our Florida room's door ajar. In situations like this who suffers the consequences the most...not the kid, he's safe at school...not the wife, she's in her gym's sterile environment...and poor defenseless me, is left to stumble-in with only my size-44 "tighty-whities," a brimming happy-face coffee mug and a SUDOKU puzzle.
DON'T BE FOOLED, THE KILLER BEES ARE A REAL THREAT TO ALL OF US. I hadn't entered in my first "8" when the Battle of Britain came to mind. Only it wasn't Messerschmidts bombing London, it was little old me getting strafed by a hornet and two over-sized bees. The larger of these behemoths was sporting a vanity license plate that read: ARNOLD SCHWARTZENBEE - 747.
A RAMBLING WRECK, ARNOLD WAS TOUGH AND SMART AND ASPIRED TO BE AN ENGINEER. I'm not as spry as I once was...but with the precision reminiscent of David Carradine crushing a grasshopper, I smooshed the hornet with my ATLANTIC CITY PRESS newspaper. Aptly, its blood soaked corpse now gave color to the previously black & white JUMBLE.
CONFUCIUS PROBABLY WOULD HAVE CAPTURED ARNOLD AND TRIED TO REHABILITATE HIM.
CONFUCIUS PROBABLY WOULD HAVE CAPTURED ARNOLD AND TRIED TO REHABILITATE HIM.In the next moment, the smaller bee made a B-line for my head. Like I was bouncing from a rose pedal to its stamen, I hopped to the sanctuary of my kitchen and shut the slider.
Then I scoffed at my potential stinger, "I'll be back...with weapons!" Somehow in only seconds, I hunted down the sweet nectar of bug spray that had been buried for years in my garage.
The battlefield was now level...I re-entered the the fray. The smaller bee (which was still the size of a '48 Buick) came at me. Deftly, I locked and loaded. To enhance the advantage of his Kamikaze tactics, he flew out of the sun. Despite being blinded, I instinctively maneuvered into a crouch, aimed over my shoulder and fired...that "bugger" would bumble no more !
IF YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THE "BIRDS AND THE BEES" THEN YOU REALIZE IT ONLY TAKES TWO, TO BEGET SWARMS.
From a hidden aerie of reconnaissance, Arnold Schwartzenbee took in all the action. He knew his fallen comrades were ready to push-up daisies so he waited in the wings...ready to pounce when I let-down guard. Playing possum with one wry eye vigilantly surveying the area, I returned to my Sudoku. Lucky me, under such adverse conditions...without really concentrating, I filled-in all the fives and the lower right hand cell...fast! Suddenly, I heard Arnold buzz...he was in the well between the window and screen. I leaped up, closed the window and trapped the B-astard.
IF YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THE "BIRDS AND THE BEES" THEN YOU REALIZE IT ONLY TAKES TWO, TO BEGET SWARMS.From a hidden aerie of reconnaissance, Arnold Schwartzenbee took in all the action. He knew his fallen comrades were ready to push-up daisies so he waited in the wings...ready to pounce when I let-down guard. Playing possum with one wry eye vigilantly surveying the area, I returned to my Sudoku. Lucky me, under such adverse conditions...without really concentrating, I filled-in all the fives and the lower right hand cell...fast! Suddenly, I heard Arnold buzz...he was in the well between the window and screen. I leaped up, closed the window and trapped the B-astard.
I forgot about Arnold for four days. Yesterday I looked in on him...he seemed especially dead. I opened the door and to my surprise, he was quite alive. He flew up...and in a million-to-one shot...I pulverized him by slamming the sliding door on him. When I re-opened the door, Arnold's crumpled body was still kicking. He flew up and fell, and flew up and fell again. To end his misery, I trapped him once more and got my gimmick...the one I call RAID!
ARNOLD USED EVERY TRICK IN THE BOOK AND THOSE PUPPY-DOG EYES REALLY MADE HIM A SYMPATHETIC CHARACTER.
Arnold must have gathered all his strength for one last sortie because he flew up at my face, albeit with far less purpose or enthusiasm. I was ready. I leaned back to avoid his thrust and squirted him. Unlike his smaller buddy, Arnold writhed in agony while struggling to get airborne just one more time. At that point, I squashed him with an old copy of the SACRAMENTO BEE newspaper. My spunky foe was so full of moxie that he still wasn't dead. Without any pomp and circumstance, I told him he was going to the big hive in the sky, scraped-up his barely quivering body and dropped it in the toilet.
ARNOLD USED EVERY TRICK IN THE BOOK AND THOSE PUPPY-DOG EYES REALLY MADE HIM A SYMPATHETIC CHARACTER.Arnold must have gathered all his strength for one last sortie because he flew up at my face, albeit with far less purpose or enthusiasm. I was ready. I leaned back to avoid his thrust and squirted him. Unlike his smaller buddy, Arnold writhed in agony while struggling to get airborne just one more time. At that point, I squashed him with an old copy of the SACRAMENTO BEE newspaper. My spunky foe was so full of moxie that he still wasn't dead. Without any pomp and circumstance, I told him he was going to the big hive in the sky, scraped-up his barely quivering body and dropped it in the toilet.
If I was teaching a class called, "SURVIVAL - 101," I would have given Arnold a lot of credit. He did not succumb to: starvation, torture, suffocation, poisoning, or getting drown. Therefore, with tremendous admiration, I confidently award to him, posthumously, the grade of...what were you expecting...a "B."
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If ever I have any kind of insect infestation problem, whom do you think I'm gonna call?
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