I was cruising along the highway on my way home from yet another bitter day of work, window down, sweating up a storm, with my no air conditioning, perusing WordPress on my phone, while not paying attention to the road(or anything else for that matter), except to occasionally look up at the ridiculous gas prices, when all of a sudden a tiny yellow and black striped flying ace with a stinger flew in my window. I immediately screamed like a little girl. He looked as surprised as I was to be there, but he had the misfortune of landing in a car full of bitterness. I swiped him off without getting stung, and he landed right on my arm rest. He was a little out of it, so I squished him into honey and kept him securely under my wallet until I could assure he was doornail(or dead as one).
Soon after, my heart slowed down to its regular bitter pace and Bitterspiration stung me in the face(see what I did there?)! I knew that I was going to write about how bitter bees make me. I guess the bittertacular post I was going to write about will just have to wait.
First things first. Bees make honey. The worst ingredient in Honey Roasted Peanuts, Honey Nut Cheerios and Honey and Peanut Butter Sandwiches(Peanuts are better because they cause other people peanut allergies). Honey also produces some the worst movies and TV shows ever. Bee Movie, a Seinfeld disaster about a Bee that sues humankind for all the honey. They can have it all as far as I am concerned. Go to your bee island that I will never visit. And Honey, a dancing movie which makes even Jessica Alba look bad (Never mind. That is all her movies.) I haven’t even seen the movie and I know it was bad. And I’ve seen one promo for Honey Boo Boo. Bitter shivers up my spine.
Second things second. Bees are roughly the size of one the bones on my finger. They fly pretty slow. They are a good food for spiders. They buzz a little but not near as loudly as flies. The fact of the matter is that no one would really care at all about bees except one little feature that comes out of their butt and the thing that will kill it if it is used. The stinger that produces a massive amount of poison. I should know, I have been stung 3 times in my life(one of those times I stepped on one), and each time I swelled up like a pregnant Kardashian. Sure those three bees died because of it, but they went out like a boss(even though their boss was an overbearing queen). When I bite the bitter bullet someday, I know it is going to be something lame like old age, or a heart attack. It is my dream to cause someone bitter pain as I leave. I wish it was, like a bee, using a sword from my butt to sting a giant person looking thing 1oo times my size.
The image and reputation of bees is hard work and togetherness. If there are two things that anger a bitter soul, it is work and togetherness. You know the opposite of laying on the couch, taking a week off, not doing things for people? The only thing good about work is that it is something to complain and be bitter about, but as you can tell I can be bitter about 1000’s of other things. Why would I want to be like a Bee and work? And working together is an even worse idea. Why in the world would I want to not only accomplish a goal, but do it with another person or 10? If there is something I have learned in life, it is that others just get in my way. In traffic, in sold out concerts, in the mall, at work. If it wasn’t for all these people, my head wouldn’t hurt so bad all the time. I don’t know what is worse, all the buzzing or all the talking. They all sound the same to me.
The worst attrocity that bees commit though, is letter theft. The letter that starts my name. B. The letter that starts Bitterness. B. And the letter that starts this blog. B. I had them all first. Don’t think that I’m not taking you to court Bees. It is on, Bitterly.
Bitter Ben’s Blog (the B’s are mine Bees!)
- Bittercast (bensbitterblog.wordpress.com)