On with the bee theme. Angry bees can be a real bitch.
So quite a few years back I was living in Ann Arbor. Nice town, Ann Arbor is. On this particular day I was out riding my bike near campus. There used to be this nice bakery next to Campus Corner where they made some really fine bagels. So I park the bike and stroll inside and order up a raisin bagel and a drink. Outside I walk over to my bike and proceed to bite into that yummy bagel. Turns out a yellow jacket had bitten into my bagel while I was blissfully unaware. Suddenly my mouth was on fire. That little bitch was in my mouth stinging the hell out of me as I chewed. I spit the damned thing out. The pain was intense, but at least I hadn't swallowed it.
I was 8 when I drank a pop with two or three wasps in it.
They stung and bit their way down my throat, effectively closing it, into the top of my stomach where they died. I was in the ER for days and they actually thought I was going to die.
The crazy part was my dad was doing a big park opening and was on stage talking about it when his 8 year old kid starts screaming bloody murder and running around in circles before passing out in front of all the news crews.
Shock set in pretty quickly so I don't remember much of the pain, but the recovery was pretty rough.
Pilot to Gunner
When I was 11, I came back home on Halloween after a long evening of trick or treating. I was pretty pleased with myself because it was a good haul that night. I skipped to my room, threw the bag of candy on the floor, turned to get a soda from the kitchen and slammed my room door shut on the way out.
The trapdoor to my attic on the ceiling above me fell open and the ladder unfolded itself onto my head. It banged me so hard that I collapsed and blacked out. While I was on the floor the ladder fell down the rest of the way and landed on my hand. I had to go to the hospital and get stitches. That was a horrible Halloween.
I always love getting a cappuccino or other warm drink, putting a nice dollop of something sweet on top, smelling the aroma that is wafting from the warm beverage in my hand, tilting it back to my lips....and burning the holy sweet christ out of my tounge, lips and possibly gums, thus disabling me from tasting anything for the next day or two.
The worst is that, in my opinion, whenever you DO put some food in your mouth in those two days, it feels kind of like the original burn. Just like dry, hot hellish sandpaper.
I was sitting on the floor pulling on one of my shoes, a shoe that was a little tight. I put some force behind it and the next thing I know it feels like an atom bomb went off in my knee. I couldn't even make noise, just grab my knee and fall onto my side. I lay there for a few minutes and it faded away. It wasn't until over ten years later I learned that I had popped a Baker's Cyst. Christ did that hurt.
My own weird happening:
I was lounging on my bed and reached over to turn my alarm on, overbalanced slightly, just had enough time to think 'woo-?!', and woke up headplanted between my bed and the table. I had hit my head on the way down and when I came to, my right ear was in the most excruciating burning/ringing pain. I jumped up immediately, fully expecting to see my severed ear lying on the carpet or at least half a gallon of blood everywhere, but luckily everything was still intact.
I hate that fucking mattress; it's all springy at the edges and has tried to kill me several times.
What if you were a cop and the Skittle was mentally disturbed and wanted to be eaten?
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