Winter, Summer, Sprint or Autumn. There is no escape, being a wasp is clearly a full time gig. There is no free crack or cranny, no corner free of the buzz nor is the very floor I walk on exempt from the territory of the wicked wasps.
We all either love, like, hate or know of the Walking Dead. The half animated corpse that plague the streets, resembling your uncle after a crazy night out or yourselves waking up on a Monday morning… It isn’t pretty (understatement of the year)
Now magnify the terror, the wretchness and the vulgarity of this scene by imagining it in the form of a wasp… I know, I’ll give you a minute to recover. I’ll get to my anecdote now I’ve infected you (excuse the pun) with an image of a wasp prowling the world with heightened senses and an abhorred appearance.
I was getting my sweat on in my shed listening Selena Gomez when I saw a wasp walking around the floor. I thought no big deal I’ll do what any girl would do… I summoned the wasp exterminatior (my pops) that was done and dusted. But oh my, karma is a bitch. About 10minutes later a flock of dead beat wasps exhausted by the heat prowled vengeful yon my garage floor whilst I was bolstered up on my spin bike contemplating this life or death situation.
If they were anything like humans, ushering them away whilst fatigued and hungry would only end in my demise, I’m too young to die. Although I wouldn’t miss not sitting my exams this June. The scene will haunt me forever, I could’ve called Frank Darabont to come and film a spin off called The Wasp Walking Dead.
But as i am writing this, you can rightly assume my well being, physically… I doubt I’ll be working out in the shed any time soon. Goodbye summer body.
Here’s the enlarged poster… It may come true.