Distractions
b"Distractions, distractions, distractions. They're all over the place. I was sitting here in my big, manly, comfortable poppa chair trying to get started on a new podcast yesterday when a four engine, 6 ton wasp hit the glass door here in my living room. I mean he hit it. I thought he was going to break the glass. He didn't break the glass, but the whack must have made him dizzy, because he fell down, and glared up at me...and buzzed. I could hear him through the double glass door. \\n\\tThere are a lot of wasps in our yard this time of year, and some of them don't understand glass, so they whack into the glass door. Generally they just get up and fly away. This guy didn't. I swear he was standing there at the bottom of the door, and glaring up at me. Now I'm not an expert at wasp anatomy, but it looked to me like he was standing on his back legs, and he raised one of his front legs and pointed it at me...I think he was giving me a waspy center finger. \\n\\tI forgot about the podcast, because I am a man, and I wasn't going to let this challenge to my masculinity pass. I keep a can of wasp spay right there by the door, because as I said we have lots of them this time of year. So I picked up the can, and very carefully opened the door...just a crack. I didn't want him getting into the house, because if my Lady Wonder Wench saw him she would become a pink streak running into the bedroom where she would lock the door and drag her dresser in front of it and vow never to come out until I whacked that wasp... and she would insist that I slide his scalp under the door to prove it before she would come out again."