Yo whaddup its dat boi
SOME
BOI-DY ONCE TOLD ME
Anyways, light the hearth, pour a glass of grape juice and dip your pipe in bubble liquid, because it's story time.851Please respect copyright.PENANAPkeSzUlOCc
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So this is a few years back, I was spending December holidays on a farm in the Western Cape. Beautiful place, seriously look at it if you're one of those people who go on holidays to see beautiful landscapes and get scammed on commemorative trinkets and overpriced beverages.
I was just minding my own business, bathing in the river, doing my yoga and building barns and all that, when the day arrives: the day of harvesting the honey from the beehives. Of course, I was pumped. I only got stung by a bee like once or twice before then, and the first time being rather inglorious, being stung by stepping on a dead bee.851Please respect copyright.PENANAiwrS90jAuG
I eagerly prepared for the situation, wearing my thickest hoodie, covering my face in a ninja scarf mask and wearing the most unwieldy woolen gloves you can imagine.851Please respect copyright.PENANAjOLhbYulzp
We climbed to the roof of the farmhouse and smoked the bees (no chemicals of course; when you run a farm where everyone poops in a bucket and you make the little boy take that shit to the compost patch, then you don't subject your blessed bees to those industrialised chemical sprays that all the people who lack a core message in their life use). Everything seemed to be going well; although there were swarms of the little buggers flying around, they didn't really bother us as we scraped the honeycomb into a bucket along with some of their honey-drowned comrades. That is, until, I made a fatal error.851Please respect copyright.PENANATY8SLlRD4L
I had lent my headdress to one of my fellows, and so my head was exposed, but I thought that wouldn't be a problem seeing that my hair acts as both an umbrella and a helmet, it's so thick and curly. What I didn't factor into my completely thorough 5 second analysis was that a rogue bee may just mistake my brown hair for some moving brush.851Please respect copyright.PENANAJhCuXdfcb4
I felt a squirming in my hair, followed by a high-pitched, squealing vibration.851Please respect copyright.PENANAeprpvHSC9H
In that one moment of dreaded clarity, I saw the meters-long cloud of disorganised bees all click into a fully cognisant cloud of warriors, all slowly turning towards me.
Needless to say, I ran like hell.
The furious cacophony of rapidly vibrating tiny wings would make any sane person want to contemplate their chances of living for more than fifty more seconds. I felt bees pierce through my hoodie and sting through my pants, all the while this single little victim stuck in my hair frantically cried to his countless fellows to impale me with all they had.
I finally got to the farmhouse, slamming the glass door shut as fast as I could, crazily jumping around brushing my body and head, babbling crazily as would become of a patient at a mental hospital.
Finally satisfied with safety, I come to realise that I have become the laughing stock of my fellows.
"Look out, there's a bee stuck in your pants!"
Of course I threw off my threw off my trousers as quickly and as undignified as I possibly could.
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Those bastards' honey tasted so goddamn delectable, coated with the blood of thine brethren.
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