I think it says something about me that I have enough
foresight to know that there is going to be more than one of these stories.  Apparently my lack of shame started at a very young age…

Anyway, here’s #1, no pun intended.

When I was a kid we lived on a 25 acre farm and a healthy
collection of fire ant piles were dotted around the property. I don’t know what
possessed me to do it, but one day I decided that it might be fun to pee on one
of said piles. Well, as luck would have it, I lost my balance and fell ass
first into the pile where I was set upon almost immediately by hundreds of
angry ants that obviously didn’t think it was as funny to be pissed on as I
did.

Every time I tried to get up I would stumble because of the pain and end up
grinding my ass further into the pile. When I finally managed to get up and run
inside to tell my mom, covered in ant bites and piss, all she could do was
laugh at me.  (This will be a reoccurring theme, I don’t blame her one bit)

In all, I was bitten/stung about 300 times with about half of those concentrated
around my poopchute. The following 2 weeks were probably the itchiest of my
life, and my mom still devolves into fits of giggles upon seeing an ant pile.

Ant-bastard