Sunday, July 11, 2010


A lot of people misuse the term ironic. As I hold a BA in English I am required to be bothered by that, just a little, and because I am also pretty mild-mannered, I don't really get TOO bothered.

BUT today Irony reared her ugly head and I saw her for her true self. How many visits to the bee yard so far? Tens. How many bees at the bee yard? Hundreds of thousands. What do I do there? Stick my unprotected hands INTO their hive. Flick them off of me. Get close to their babies and their food. Number of stings to date: zero.

Today in my urban neighborhood I went for a run. Number of hives: zero. Number of bees? negligible. Number of times a year I go running: once. Maybe.

I think you can probably see where this is going. On my biannual run, minding my own business and running on a concrete sidewalk is where I got a bee sting, on my neck. Bad words were said. It itches. THAT'S irony folks.

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