Tag Archives: Worker bee

Ouch, That Smarts!


English: A South African praying mantis (Mioma...

English: A South African praying mantis (Miomantis caffra) eating a fly it has just caught. Photo taken in Auckland, New Zealand. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Something has always bothered me…well I can’t really say “it’s bothered me” as such, only that it has bothered me in an alternative way that actually doesn’t bother me.  At least it doesn’t bother me individually as much as it bothers me in a manner that disassociates itself with me; however, associates itself with the insect world.

Let’s examine the common honey bee.  The queen is a female (that makes sense to me).  The worker bees are also female.   (I have no opinion one way or the other with this arrangement.)

Now enter the drone, the only male inhabitant of the hive (this is where the bothersome part comes in.)

When a new queen is chosen it flies high into the sky being chased by a horde of drones.  The first one to reach the queen will mate, blast out his genitalia and then die.  When mating season is over, the drones are kicked out of the nest. Being as they come from an unfertilized egg, I picture them being one chromosome short of stupid. I can see them huddling together all winter, keeping each other warm as they drool spittle and utter phrases such as, “duh” and “huh.”

Along the same lines, when a black widow mates, she will often eat her much smaller mate, and if that is not enough carnage, after a praying mantis mates, it will chew the head off her husband…actually the praying mantis will chew the head off anything. You can see that, being a male, this sort of behavior could tend to be a bit bothersome, even though it is totally outside of my species.

Let us not forget about the radioactive spider that bit an unassuming, young student turning him into Spiderman.  Even though he fought for the cause of good, who’s to say that the same type of spider couldn’t bite a woman scorned (and you know what they say about scorned women) and we end up disappearing or at best decapitated after a romp in the hay.

Decidedly,  here comes the most difficult part of this post, tying the gruesome truth I have laid before you into anything that remotely resembles the art of writing. Maybe the best way to wind up  is to say; keep homework eating canines away from your manuscripts, chose your mate wisely, and if anything commences chewing on your head…well…don’t say I didn’t warn you.


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