Wasps...

...and I don't mean the Upper East Side kind. No, I mean the icky, nasty, buzzing, stinging, egg-laying kind. The kind that has decided to build a nest on my front overhang. Ebbie was fREAking out at the front door when I got back from up north and when I went to check it out I saw it: a papery oval hanging over my steps.

I had to bide my time until sunset to shoot those mother truckers with my Hot Shot wasp and bee killer (Up To A 27 Foot Jet Spray!) but I doused 'em good. Ebs and I stood inside the screen door after my covert assassination mission (of course I wore several layers of gear) and watched as a few wasps returned to the hive, landed, and immediately keeled over. They gave me the heeBEEjeeBEEs (get it? bees? yeah...) and all night I had creepy dreams about the eggs hatching and crawling through mysterious cracks in my house to get me.

They should all be dead by this morning but I left a note for the mailman, just in case.