re: Is there anything more invigorating then stepping in a pile of red ants to start the day?

Cat shite at 4 am and spreading it from hell to breakfast in your boat. Picking up cat shite only to realize it’s not mud.

Me and my grandpa were out in the field to move an old flat boat he hadn't done anything with in months. Flipped it over to pick it up and a nest of hornets lit us up.

Think we left that boat there forever.

invigorating

Hate getting bit, but I do like popping the little pimples it leaves behind.

nope

“Did you know that the U.S.didn’t have red ants until the 1930’s”

I went to Navy bootcamp in Jan 1969,never saw fire ants central La,Grant parish.Got out of the Navy April 1973 and we had fire ants.

Good news is we had tons of ticks here in Grant parish before.I built a house on the family land in GP in 2000,rarely see a tick.Got plenty of fire ants.

quote:

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I find it pretty satisfying to pop a red ant bite...

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I can't not pop the pustules in the same way an alcoholic can't pass up a free drink, even knowing popping it will cause another big histamine release and a new round of itching.

Fire ants are tricky bastards. They don't bite all willy-nilly. Instead, they wait until a sufficient number of them have crept up onto you and gotten into position. Then, one of them, presumably the highest ranking officer, counts down and yells, "BITE!".

At which point you jump, yell, and flail about as if you're having some sort of epileptic fit, nigh on causing yourself traumatic injury from whacking at them in a fit of panic with the garden hoe you were using mere moments before. You flee from the garden in search of the water hose, setting a new record in the 40 yard dash in the process. You think to get rid of the hoe about halfway and send it sailing across the yard. You finally reach the water hose, but you — being practical and showing some sense of forethought for a change — turned it off at the hydrant the night before. You clamber to the edge of the building, now swatting the bastards with every high step. You finally make it, turn it on, grab the hose and spray at your legs......

You forgot one critical piece of information that you have known since childhood, though. It is 95° and the 25 feet of hose has been laying in the sun all day. This being lost on you, you proceed to blast your legs with scalding hot water......"AHHHHHH! frick!"

You sulk back to the house, feeling embarrassed and already hurting from the collection of now swelling welts on your exposed legs. You hope no one witnessed your display.





The moral of this tale, that may or may not be true, is that in red clay dirt it is practically impossible to spot a fire ant bed in freshly-tilled soil.

PTSD is real.

Wasabi

Under the covers BJ

A warm, crispy apple fritter

Wake up thinking it’s weekday but it’s Saturday

Brand new corvette with red bow on top in driveway

Red ants

Cop knocking on door asking where you were last night at 3am and you cannot recall your own name or birthdate.

Almost identical story happened to me the other week. Was just standing in a pile like a dumbass for way longer than any reasonable person would have noticed.

I can say it gave me a strong sense of purpose for the next couple of days