I used to own a house with two pear trees. I learned to pick up any fruit that dropped, because the pear juice would ferment under the skin in the warm sun, the wasps would pierce the skin and drink the pear liqueur, and then relentlessly chase me around the yard. It turns out that wasps are belligerent drunks, which shouldn’t be surprising.
I was friends with a hive for years. One year they invited me to a spring bee-kegger. Many were just dancing, but some were so drunk they couldn’t lift-off from the grass because they couldn’t avoid the grass blades long enough to get into the sky.
I started providing a lift-off service so the drunk ones could keep dancing. Some of them were so drunk they just started snuggling my hand and would crawl into the nooks between my fingers and pass out for a while before waking refreshed and hitting the dance swarm again.
When I got home my daughter ran to me and gave me a hug. She jumped back so suddenly I was worried she almost killed a stray bee hiding somewhere and got stung.
“Where have you been?!” She said to me.
“Oh, I’ve been at a bee party all afternoon. They invited me. They were very drunk. It was amazing”
“Oh, that makes sense then. You smell like the essence of flowers, but not in a good way.”
There’s a portion of my porch with a ramp where they clearly didn’t measure the width of the poles in the side of the ramp guard rail so there’s visible gaps in the top and bottom portions where it meets the actual rail and wasps LOVE to hover on in there and poke around, up to no good. I assume they’re after moisture or other insects but i want them to leave
I used to own a house with two pear trees. I learned to pick up any fruit that dropped, because the pear juice would ferment under the skin in the warm sun, the wasps would pierce the skin and drink the pear liqueur, and then relentlessly chase me around the yard. It turns out that wasps are belligerent drunks, which shouldn’t be surprising.
Bees on the other hand, are very fun drunks.
I was friends with a hive for years. One year they invited me to a spring bee-kegger. Many were just dancing, but some were so drunk they couldn’t lift-off from the grass because they couldn’t avoid the grass blades long enough to get into the sky.
I started providing a lift-off service so the drunk ones could keep dancing. Some of them were so drunk they just started snuggling my hand and would crawl into the nooks between my fingers and pass out for a while before waking refreshed and hitting the dance swarm again.
When I got home my daughter ran to me and gave me a hug. She jumped back so suddenly I was worried she almost killed a stray bee hiding somewhere and got stung.
“Where have you been?!” She said to me.
“Oh, I’ve been at a bee party all afternoon. They invited me. They were very drunk. It was amazing”
“Oh, that makes sense then. You smell like the essence of flowers, but not in a good way.”
This is likely the best thing I will read today.
There’s a portion of my porch with a ramp where they clearly didn’t measure the width of the poles in the side of the ramp guard rail so there’s visible gaps in the top and bottom portions where it meets the actual rail and wasps LOVE to hover on in there and poke around, up to no good. I assume they’re after moisture or other insects but i want them to leave