Wasps dislike this. They dislike this to the tune of pain, anguish and swelling. They will not care you did not see them. How DARE you not see them! They are wasps, and their existence is paramount. Mother Nature provided them with a natural deterrent to grubby hands; A mean disposition and a stinger with which they use to great effect to make one regret picking them up.
I learned this lesson the hard way today. I picked up a cord for my phone in the bedroom. It seemd the wasp had interest in this cord as well and didn't like my decision to grab both it and the cord. I recall feeling thin little pokey stick legs grabbing on for all they were worth, and a tremendous electric hot fire in my finger. Right on the swirl of my finger. This pain was nearly intolerable. This pain was fire. This pain flat sucked. I jumped, I hooted, I hollered and cursed like only a salty old sailor can.
In the end, the wasp met it's fate at the bottom of a boot, for while Mother Nature gave it a stinger, God gave me size, size to which, like the great Hulk I SMASH that which causes pain. It was a sad smash, as the wasp was merely letting me know in it's own way how displeased the wasp was with my actions, I in turn gave it a lesson as well in displeasure.
My finger swelled up like a grape, and my joints in that finger are sore. 3 cups of ice in a coffee cup, 2 hours of "OUCH" and a tramadol later I feel a little better. The wasp is still dead though.
Basically, this boils down to; don't pick up wasps.
I learned this lesson the hard way today. I picked up a cord for my phone in the bedroom. It seemd the wasp had interest in this cord as well and didn't like my decision to grab both it and the cord. I recall feeling thin little pokey stick legs grabbing on for all they were worth, and a tremendous electric hot fire in my finger. Right on the swirl of my finger. This pain was nearly intolerable. This pain was fire. This pain flat sucked. I jumped, I hooted, I hollered and cursed like only a salty old sailor can.
In the end, the wasp met it's fate at the bottom of a boot, for while Mother Nature gave it a stinger, God gave me size, size to which, like the great Hulk I SMASH that which causes pain. It was a sad smash, as the wasp was merely letting me know in it's own way how displeased the wasp was with my actions, I in turn gave it a lesson as well in displeasure.
My finger swelled up like a grape, and my joints in that finger are sore. 3 cups of ice in a coffee cup, 2 hours of "OUCH" and a tramadol later I feel a little better. The wasp is still dead though.
Basically, this boils down to; don't pick up wasps.