Our house has become littered with the dead carcasses of wayward bumble bees. I don�t know why this has come to be, I just know that it is so.

There were fourteen dead bumble bees scattered across the basement floor when I came here. My mother mentioned them in passing before she left, but she did nothing to clean them up or investigate the source of the invasion. What would she care? She�s in Alaska, looking at bears and shit like that. I highly doubt that she�s having any bee issues that far north.

I�m not as lucky. Two days ago, I came home to find a bumble bee dying on the floor of our living room. This one had gotten into the house and made it all the way up the stairs to the back room before succumbing to whatever kills bees.

Boredom?

Cholesterol?

In any case, this one certainly put some effort in its travels. Who knows how far a healthy bee could get in our house before expiring. Perhaps one could make it all the way to the top floor and die in my mouth as I�m sleeping. As I�m dreaming my horrid dreams, it could be stinging my eyes...or my genitals for that matter.

Do bumble bees sting? I don�t even know...

To put the icing on the proverbial cake, I was getting ready for a shower in the basement bathroom yesterday, and just when I was all good and nude...I was dive bombed by a half-inch thick bumble bee.

I did what any man in that situation would have done: I ran out of the bathroom naked, yelping like a little girl.

I stood there for at least a minute, crouched down as to prevent the bee from seeing me, and I watched it attack the light over and over again. Eventually I came to realize my nudity, and thus I decided on an immediate course of action.

As frightening as bees may be, standing around naked is probably even more uncomfortable for me. (I have image-acceptance issues)

So I decided to be brave and do what a Manly-Man would do. I found the longest extension tube for the vacuum, and I sucked it out of the air from a ridiculously safe distance. In efforts to keep an angry bee from flying back out of the hose and attacking me, I walked around the basement sucking up every single piece of fuzz and trash I could find in efforts to pack that thing in there, good and tight.

In retrospect, I�m feeling at least slightly ashamed and guilty for killing that bee. It�s not like it was hurting me, it was just trying to find it�s way back outside. I�m sure he just got sepperated from his little bee friends, and wandered into this strange flower-less place, confused...tired...lonely. Quite like the rest of us.

It didn�t really deserve to die, and what I did was moderately cruel...

this is what I think as I�m eating my chicken sandwich.