Well dang. Today on the way home from work I ended up getting stung by a bee. First time in my LIFE I've been stung. Mental note: at least I'm not allergic. Yes, I know that I am ** (explitive deleted) years old, but it was the first time I've experienced the displeasure of a bee sting. The insulting part is that it did, in fact, contrary to all of the crap your parents feed you, ATTACK ME.

I leave work, roll down the windows to enjoy one of the few nice days we've had and half way home this thing is on my face. I try to brush it off, realize it's not hair or something and I swat frantically at my face, nearly wrecking my car, and knocking the little rat bastard to the seat (right under my leg). I'm then sweeping at it while trying to attend to driving to at least get somewhere that I can appropriately deal when I feel it. Owie. Those booger burn for a while, don't they?

All I can reason is that this bee was quite jealous after getting a glance up my dress and seeing the hella cute blue lacies that I just bought that make my ass look fabulous. Ok, that's probably TMI, I'm sure.

On a bright note I did finally get to see Mr. Law's shiney, beautiful, harley! Very nice. Know what would make that long haired tattoo biker look appear more authentic? Long hair! Traitor. ;)