Jack and I were lounging. We both have a day off and decided to spend it like we spend every simultaneous day off -- watching a marathon of TV on DVD in our pajamas. Our cozy, sun-drenched, witty afternoon was abruptly interrupted when we realized there were FOUR MOTHERFUCKING WASPS gathered on the ceiling, plotting a sneak attack on our apartment. It was a goddamn coup.

We trapped the bitches in the living room and plotted our counter-attack, eventually settling on acquiring some of the most goddamn potent insect killer on the market. Kill them! Kill them hard! I didn't want them to just die, I wanted them to die with all the forces of hazardous chemicals shot from a very intimidating-looking can from up to twenty-two feet away.

So Jack, my knight in shining armor, braved asphyxiation and horrific bee stings that I can only imagine to be quarter-sized and saved me from certain rash and swell. She also managed to take three hostages and trap those scary motherfuckers between the window panes. Take that, assholes!

But today was the day of invasion, my friends. Today was the day that those bitch wasps stormed my house, uninvited. Today shall live in infamy as the day the war began: Anniemosity and Jack vs. The Wasps. And we'll win. Oh yes -- we will prevail until the frosty cold blast of Minnesota winters freeze their creepy little abdomens right off. Those douchebags made a big mistake.