Late this evening I was the victim of a kamikazi wasp. Either he didn't like the shirt I had on or my perfume or maybe he was just generally po'd. I was just standing there, minding my own business when I felt a thump on my back and then a sensation of being hit with a hot poker. And he was hanging on, working up some more sting. I managed to knock him off, but he was going after me again and again. I beat a hasty retreat, tossed David a can of wasp killer and he doused the little sucker.
The bad news is that even after being hit several times with the poison, that little devil was still buzzing around and still dive-bombing me whenever I showed my face. I think he's still out there, poised for attack.
I really have no idea what I did to warrant such hatred. But I guarantee you that a state of war has been declared on Briar Forest.