Harry's Blog

It gives me the creeps. Not as much as the notorious Cartmel Bar Spider Wasp, but pretty close.

Don't get me wrong, I'm no wuss. My personal bravery is exhibited in certain ways I do not wish to relate here, state secrets, modesty and all that.

Bu several weeks ago, in our summer, wherever that went - my flat was invaded by several vicious looking wasp type things.

I'm not a heartless man but they had to die, die like the vermin they are (or were). Even God doesn't like wasps, "I can do better than that" spaketh He, and thus created the honey bee - without whom Crunchy Nut Cornflakes would not be so delicious.

So I killed a particularly nasty looking wasp in my bathroom. I should have removed the evidence at the time, it would have been a matter of seconds, for some reason I didn't.

And now the thing haunts my bathroom. There's something very creepy about that wasp corpse, accusatory, a malevolent evil in yellow and black.

Every time I go in there it's hard to avoid the demonic gaze of the ex-wasp. And the longer I leave it there, the less likely I am to remove the nasty little thing.

Today however I'm feeling brave. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do and all that. What kind of girl would love a man who couldn't defend her from wild creatures, whether corporal or in spirit form? What sort of children would respect a father who cannot deliver them from evil?

And so by the time you get this far in this blog entry I will have exorcised the spooky beasty from my bathroom - both its physical form by brute force - and its evil spirit by the recitation of cleansing prayer.

If you're a wasp and are reading this, you'd better stay the hell away from my house. I take no prisoners.