Tuesday, May 1, 2001 [by:SpaceBass]

I was going to tell you all about my 'adventures' over the past month.

I had a post worked up on how the enormous mutant bees chewed through the wall of my house on April 1st, how they subdued me with their stingers, and how they hauled me off to some dark, dank chamber underground where the only light I saw for weeks was that used to blind me in many of the frequent torture sessions.

I wanted to talk about how I heard the mad chittering of their damned squirrel cohorts as they filled the hive with the notion that I was somehow responsible for the death of one of their number, how that loss was irretrievable, how someone needed to pay for this gross injustice.

I wanted to say that my tenuous grasp on hope slipped away on the dawn of the fourth week, as I overheard the drones buzzing to each other, "Death...Death."

You would have been amazed by my tale of my flukish escape, of the chance meeting with the termite resistance, of the flock of colored chicks used to obscure my flight.

You would have gasped at my brush with recapture, the house-to-house searches, the running only in the dark of night, the avoiding honey like the plague, the contracting of the plague during an alleged night-time dalliance with a sewer rat.

I had a post all laid out. But it wouldn't have been nearly as interesting as what really happened.