On Bees

This afternoon a bumble bee sort of floated up to my second story window all gentle like, fat and slow and happy like an Air Hogs^TM brand personal aircraft toy.

I fucking hate wasps, and yellow jackets, and even those regular skinny bees that are just essentially tiny wasps or yellow jackets. Any way I try not to freak out, but I always keep to bobbing and weaving and keeping the damned things from landing on my at all. I've only been stung once and I'm not allergic, it just sucks to get stung by a bee.

But bumble bees?

Shit, they're my buds. We get along like flowers and, well, bees.

They're just so damned cute. All round and fuzzy. Where do they get off, really? I see a bumble bee floating around me, my first instinct isn't, "OH FUCK OH FUCK OH GEEZE GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF AAAAAHHHHHHGH!!!!"

It's more like, "Aw maaaa, yeeeaaaaahh…. Hells yeah, little guy! Or girl. You're all girls, right? That's cool. I'm down with equal opportunity insecting. Whatchu up to today, girl? You got some pollen off a dandy-lion or somethin'? That's pretty sweet, yo."

People freak out around bees and go spastic and put all those fear pheromones into the air and that just scares the bee. It lands on you and goes nuts and stings you and then it dies and you're in pain.

But a bumble bee lands on me it doesn't sense fear. All it says is, "Oh! Hey. That's a thing. Alright. Peace out, weird big thing," and flies off.

Hells yeah. I'm a thing.