Does Your Face Hurt?

I thought I was having a fun time last night enjoying the atmosphere among friends as a fellow comrade had returned home from working all summer. I thought I was enjoying the atmosphere on a hot summer evening as the sun set and pulled pork sandwiches dripped from my mouth. I thought I was logging sentimental memories as myself and a few pals were having a replica dunk contest on a 7-foot tall basketball hoop.

But then a feisty yellow jacket came out of nowhere, stung me right on the forehead and ruined all of that last replicated paragraphic chorus of a Kenny Chesney song.

Yes that's right kids, a yellow jacket. A nasty one at that. The little nasty creature with a needle sticking out of its butthole whose blogalias might as well be Beelzebub for all I care decided to protect its home and plant its derriere 5 centimeters above the middle of my left eyebrow. All while I was going up for a windmill throw down dunk on the right side of the hoop. My manliness was instantly compromised.

Beelzebub: "Oh no you don't. This is MY house! MY HOUSE!"

Swamp Thing: "AAAAAHHHH! OWWWWW! SON OF A MOTHER GOAT LICKING DOUCEHBAG ON FIRE!!! AAAAAAHHHHH! CURSE WORD! YOU HEINOUS LITTLE PUNK!"

It was probably the greatest blocked shot in the history of the game of basketball. Yao Ming wishes he could have had that effect on some of the scorers that rose up against him. And to think that this despicable demon did it all with one foul swoop of his hindquarters. Totally unfair!

Yao Ming: Confused/Perplexed/WTF look across his face "So what you're saying is all I have to do is build a nest in base of the actual basketball hoop and when a scorer comes in, I just have to plant my butt on his face and he'll run away screaming in agony."

Beelzebub: "Yep, that's how it works. Not as tough as you'd think it would be."

Yao Ming: "And to think I've tried standing in the middle of the paint with my hands above my head for my entire career, when all I had to use was my booty!"

This insignificant raunchy conspirator sure left a mark on my forehead, a mark that I doused with ice throughout the remainder of the evening. A mark that has been itching and burning all day today. A mark that left such a dent in my life that I decided to blog about it. Yeah, this little bugger had such an impact in my life that I've given him a blogalias. Not everyone gets one of those!

The Royal Queen made a point though this afternoon as she sympathized with my pain and pointed out the ramifications of what happened last night, helping me come to the realization that he gave his life in trying to protect his paper thin home in the hoop.

The Royal Queen: "Well, that's karma for ya."

Yeah, he may be dead, but his forehead doesn't still hurt 24 hours later. Props to him though, it will still go down as the greatest blocked shot of all time.