Every night there would be a whole herd of bees around my porch light. About 7 or 8 anyhow. Besides everyone knows when you have more than two of anything it is considered a herd. Right then. Turns out those bees swarming my light should not have been my primary concern for behold, the bee hive in the tree outside my front door. If 7 or bees are a herd, then pack up the kids Martha, we've got a stampede:
And you thought you had problems . . . I would estimate that there are around 3,731 bees in the hive. Roughly.
In unrelated killer bee news, I found out that someone evil that I used to be friends with has gained weight. Lots of weight. Like more than you could fit in a suitcase amount of weight. Normally I would never laugh about someone's physical appearance, but this person is a horrible duckhead. So the weight gaining, I'll admit it, it makes me happy because I am a shallow, shallow girl. A happy, shallow girl who doesn't have to worry about loose change getting caught in her skin. Killer bee attacks, yes, losing quarters, not so much.