More than 200 beekeepers and other bee nuts recently gathered together somewhere in Illinois to discuss why we're all going to die. Sadly they spent most of their time together sniffing honeycombs. But what they didn't figure out is why the bees are disappearing. Still, nobody knows, except for the bees, but they're not telling. Why aren't they telling us? Because they're pissed. Maybe they're annoyed that Paris Hilton going to jail for driving with a suspended license gets more TV coverage than the deaths of billions of bees and the looming collapse of the global food chain. Yeah, laugh it up you stupid reality TV watching whores. Go check out Gawker. But a year from now when you're lying in the dusty remains of Lake Ochechobee, digging for mosquito larva to eat, then you'll say, "Hey, remember that blog about the bees that warned us? Man, that shit was pretty funny. And true. Too bad we didn't listen. Now we're going to die and it's going to suck big time."Monday, June 11, 2007
Ain't no party like a Midwest Beekeeper Symposium
More than 200 beekeepers and other bee nuts recently gathered together somewhere in Illinois to discuss why we're all going to die. Sadly they spent most of their time together sniffing honeycombs. But what they didn't figure out is why the bees are disappearing. Still, nobody knows, except for the bees, but they're not telling. Why aren't they telling us? Because they're pissed. Maybe they're annoyed that Paris Hilton going to jail for driving with a suspended license gets more TV coverage than the deaths of billions of bees and the looming collapse of the global food chain. Yeah, laugh it up you stupid reality TV watching whores. Go check out Gawker. But a year from now when you're lying in the dusty remains of Lake Ochechobee, digging for mosquito larva to eat, then you'll say, "Hey, remember that blog about the bees that warned us? Man, that shit was pretty funny. And true. Too bad we didn't listen. Now we're going to die and it's going to suck big time."
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I was born in a beehive. True story. Kentucky. 1952. It was right after the war ended. Truman was getting all the glory. My pappy was a coal miner. He dug coal for the war planes they used in the Big Battle of 49. And then when it was all over, he an ma had me. In a beehive. Don't ask me how they fit in there or what they were doing. Just know that it was sweet. Sticky and sweet. And the stinging... oh the stinging...
Now it's almost 40 years later and here I am, a successful dog catcher. I've got no complaints. A beautiful wife, three kids, and horse. Life isn't bad. Not too bad at all.
How can you catch dogs if you're in a beehive? Sounds kinda fishy to me. Smells fishy too. Oh God... it tastes fishy. It's everywhere, everything is so damn fishy. I hate seafood. This is horrible. The smell. It's bad. The fish must have been dead for months. Oh God. I'm puking and it both tastes and smells like fish.
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