June Really Bugs Me

One of my friends wrote: 

Theres nothin' like goin' outside to smoke and being attacked by june bugs

My Response:

One of the things that it might be like is:

You are standing by your grill flipping a burger in the mid afternoon and just when the burger is suspended mid-way in the air you are abducted by space aliens and transported back to the middle of the previous century where you are forced to attempt an assassination plot on Eisenhower but you fail, are captured and convicted, to face a firing squad. You hear the word "fire!", see the recoil of the weapons but never hear the gun fire as the bullets race toward our face faster than the speed of sound and freeze in mid-air millimeters from your nose (Matrix style) and suddenly you find yourself transported back to the middle of the backyard and your middle aged wife standing right beside you who didn't even notice that you were gone for those 12 nano-seconds and you could have easily caught the burger that was in mid air with your boxing honed cat-like reflexes but you are still flustered by the lead boooo-lits that were just this this this far away from your nose, and that one "female" alien looked pretty hot, and in the confusion you drop the last burger to the ground that was supposed to be yours but then Tigger the Kat swoops down and runs off with it. The last burger. And it was supposed to be yours. You need a nap, even on an empty stomach.

That might be worse than June Bugs. Hold it - did you say you liked or disliked being attacked by June Bugs? That might alter the story ....