Red is the color of awesome and now I'm awesome-er.

So... I almost finished my 'to do' list. The one thing I really wanted to do was clean out the dungeon but I left it to the end and unfortunately Andy got home before I could de-clutter the shit out of his "" man space "" (come out of the gutter people) and he was all "My toys! I still play with those!. Don't throw out that box from the rubix cube I bought in 1988." If he hadn't come home, he would have been non the wiser.

Anyway, the reason it took me so long is because the windows were more of a project than I thought. I told Andy to leave me his work ladder so I may reach all the little nooks and crannies. While I'm sure he has his drill and wire snips in the little hole doodads that are carved out on the ladder, I had my duster, rag, water and shark vacuum all ready to show those little dust mites who ruled this house.

Once the windows were sparkly and clean, I set up my painter's bucket and got to work.

What? It was perfect for the job. 

Okay, regular posting schedule will resume once I get back to work tomorrow. For now, don't be scared to see this face when I post comments on your blogs. That is my new avatar and I know it's scary but it's the face I have to live with every day so if I can deal with it without throwing up so shall you... maybe.

 

P.S.

I guess the photobucket issue was not resolved (they are just for stumble, reddit etc). I would do it myself but like I've said before, I'm as html literate as a cabbage smoking weed. Only less fun.

My vacation attire would get me banned from all 5 star, 4 star, 3 star, 2 star resorts.

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"Bee n' Andy: Married and sometimes, still in love…" -Dangers of the marital bed part deux.

Yeah, you parents out there that think it’s hard talking to your kids about the birds and the bees? Try explaining prison love to your older, very sheltered, female boss. I dare ya’.

The following is the most bizarre conversation I have ever had with a boss that even beats the vampire one.

Glynda: Can I ask you something since you’re hip and happening [I AM NOT KIDDING. THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID]

Bee: [in the middle of enjoying some taco dip] I am pretty groovy. Ask away.

Glynda: What does it mean when people say ‘I’m not your bitch’? Is it degrading to women?

Bee: BWAHAHAHAHA! Uh I mean erm. Well, I think it originated as a prison term referring to those men who were the ummm bottom part of a forced relationship… if you know what I mean.

Glynda: … [blank stare]

Bee: Well um [puts down her Tostito full of taco dip] [sweats] okay when a man and a woman lust each other very much they uh… but when there is no woman around and the man is confined to a building (or boat for you sailors out there) where only other men live and that man has certain needs… if the man is bigger IN STATURE than other men and he’s tougher and may have the nickname of Big MOFO Killing Machine he may then take on a, let’s call him SPECIAL FRIEND, whom he will use as his well erm GIRLFRIEND for the time of his stay. And his temporary GIRLFRIEND then cries at night because he really doesn’t want any part of this relationship but there is nothing he can do because his nickname is Little Willy White Collar Crime and Big MOFO Killing Machine will do what he wants anyway. In this scenario, Little Willy is the Prison Bitch so the term “I’m not your bitch” comes from that.

Glynda: [looking nauseous] Oh… dear. So when OZ and Tin-Man say it, WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?? That they’re…

Bee: Holy Moses NO! No! That’s not what I’m saying it just means they’re saying they are not there for someone else to take advantage of or abuse.

Glynda: [looks relieved] Okay. I get it. I thought they just meant women as their slaves. I think I liked it better that way.

Bee: Well, I’m sure Little Willy liked it better that way too.

Moral of this story? Don't do the crime If you're a sensitive asshole.

If you have a better moral, sock it to me.

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I dedicate this post to The Nemising One who died earlier this week. He was one crude rude dude but he was always funny. I know I said I'd post Andy's interview but this conversation with Glynda happened after I'd found out he'd died and I thought it was right up his alley.

When I first found out, I swear I thought it was a joke because he did have that type of morbid sense of humor. He wrote a goodbye post just in case his health failed him one day and instead a fuckin drunk driver got to him first.

I've always wondered what would happen if one day I just, out of the blue, stopped posting. It's an interesting idea to have a goodbye post ready just in case an unforeseen freak accident were to send me off to meet my maker. Would it matter? I know it mattered to me to know TNO was gone. I'm not trying to make this about me it's just that it was a bizarre experience to read somebody's good-bye.

My thoughts are with his family whom he loved and I'm reminded especially of this post where he took his daughter to see Twilight. The guy was a hilarious contradiction.

Rest in peace TNO.

Brian reviews Milli Vanilli

So... most of you may remember Milli Vanilli and the tragedy that was once we found out those two stud muffins ::snicker gag snicker:: weren't the ones singing. I don't know about you all but I loved their songs. Still do and I'm not ashamed to admit it because I'm secure in my coolness. my own personal copy.

Anyway, I got to thinking that Brian missed the whole scandal because he was ensconced in a hyperbaric chamber somewhere in Antarctica listening to penguins mating. Just kidding Brian, don't get mad.

I had the biggest crush on Rob Pilatus and I was so sad when they interviewed him years later and he was depressed and saying how his life was in a spiral. He eventually committed suicide. That sucked donkey balls and still makes me weepy to this day. Okay not really but it was sad.

Anyway, here's Brian's review of Milli Vanilli's "Baby, Don't Forget My Number"

 

When Bee told me that I was to review Milli Vanilli, I was a bit worried about my waistline. However, it turns out that this is still a music review rather than a food tasting, and that Milli Vanilli isn't a special kind of confectionary that goes on cakes, but a pop band.

Fab Morvan and Rob Pilatus are featured on this video, and were the outfit's Kermit and Miss Piggy - that is, they danced and generally goofed around while other people played the music and did the vocals. This caused a fuss when it turned out that they weren't really singing, in the same way that a lot of people would be shocked if you told them that the Muppets weren't real.

Perhaps the problem was that they pretended to be the real artists, and even won awards. Though I'm sure the Muppets have done that too. Anyway, this is completely irrelevant as far as I'm concerned - who cares how it's done? It's the finished product that matters.

I must admit, though, that I was slightly suspicious when I noticed someone doing an impersonation of Animal to a drum beat that sounded like it came from a machine. In fact, the music is heavily synthesized, and it sounds from the online videos I watched that it suffered from the really bright treble that seemed to be a great favourite of 90's pop recording engineers. But I haven't heard a CD, so I can't be sure about that.

Don't Forget My Number, shown here with a video clearly shot in London, seems to be a dance/rap song. The theme is very catchy - I caught myself humming it long after I'd finished listening. Fab and Rob do their bit, and the video tells a story of boy meets girl, boy decides to phone girl, but the all important bit of paper with her number on it gets sucked out of the window by the wind, spoiling his plans for the night. Dialus Interruptus. That's why they call them windows. The moral of the story is clearly that you should take better care of scraps of paper, or get a mobile phone.

The actual song isn't bad -  It's all very rhythmic (not just the drum machine), which is why it's so catchy. I wasn't moved emotionally by all this, but there was enough variety and the piece was well enough constructed that I suspect most people would find it good to listen to. They didn't explain who Eddie was, though. I hope he's okay.

The one thing that struck me about all of the songs I heard was that they were well written. I expect that when you have Muppets to front your act, you tend to employ professionals behind the scenes. Come to think of it, that's probably what Jim Henson did, too...

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Hmmm... I was never a fan of the muppets. There's something about hollow, fuzzy creatures with hands up their butts that gives me the heebie jeebies. Andy just corrected me and said those were puppets not muppets. Whatever they are all freaky.

It's awesome to know that Brian was humming this song. I think I am slowly bringing him into the 21st century music wise. Yes, I know that technically Milli Vanilli is from the 20th century. No need to correct me you nerds.

Stay tuned tomorrow for Bee's Musings Presents: Interview with an Electrician, Ordinary Man or Superhero?

I'm as perfect as perfect can be, right? what? You disagree?

So… that friend I told you guys about, you know the one who found me after 23 years? She is coming over to visit the best city in the world. No, not that one! Chicago! Or you know, Chicagoland. She will be here the beginning of April and will be staying at Shangri-La Bee n’ Andy’s.

Now, it’s been a long time and I’ve changed a lot in all those years. And not just physically. I would say I’ve become a little tougher, a little wiser and a lot grumpier. I thought maybe I should give her a heads up on the inner workings of my head so she doesn’t commit a flagrant foul.

Okay, first off. I’m not a hugger. I mean, I’ll probably hug her hello and goodbye but that’s all that’s needed, right?

If I’m not a hugger, I’m less of a kisser. You know those kiss on the cheek greetings? I cannot handle those. I’m always that weird awkward girl who pulls back at the last second and then they wind up kissing my chin or forehead. That’s embarrassing to everybody including my long dead ancestors.

I sometimes over emphasize words and people think I’m YELLING when all I’m doing is trying to get across the SERIOUSNESS of a situation. Example:

Can you believe someone at work, PROBABLY MILTON, only left 2 crackers in the cracker box and then just put it away? WHO DOES THAT?

Andy always tells me to stop yelling at him and I tell him to stop being such a delicate little flower.

I have two insane dogs but only one of them is dangerous. He may look all sweet and cute and cuddly but he is one step away from making your fingers his dinner.

Also, he smells. I don’t know why but he does. Maybe I should Febreeze him before she gets here?

If I see the opportunity to cheat I’ll take it. Except in Scrabble and Up-words because I don’t know how to spell.

That’s all I could come up with, because I’m perfect, so I thought maybe you guys out there on the other side of my screen, can give her tips on how not to poke the beast within. Things you may have learned about me while reading some of my nonsense. This is your opportunity to mock me like you’ve never mocked me before! I'm pretty sure you got nuthin'.

By the way, I will be interviewing Andy and he's pretty excited. If the definition of excited is to 'scratch ones head and then shrug as they're walking away'.

Youuuuu, light up my liiiiiiiife...

Do you know what that is? That is years of me begging for a working light in my dining room.

My Andy finally bought me a bee-utiful chandelier and put it up today. Because of that, I let him make fun of me for buying Twilight even after I said the movie sucked gorilla butt. Well, in my defense, I have all the books and so I need to have all the movies. Makes sense really.

It's kind of cool watching him work. I mean we're always mocking each other and making fun of our jobs so to see him in action makes me go "Huh. He does know what he's doing and he doesn't carry a drill just to look cool."

What would you guys think of me interviewing Andy? I could call it Bee's Musings presents: Interview with an electrician, man or superhero? 

That's all for today since I have a severe headache and no brain cells to do a proper post. What else is new, right?

Later Crocodiles.

A story in which we mourn a crocodile, a cat and my father-in-laws pride. Just kidding Pop R.

So obviously there's no comic strip today. My Andy has been really busy this week. Yes, he was on a forced vacation and had a WHOLE WEEK he could have worked on it but he had to do other things like golf and go eat crocodile sausage. I know, I know. I'm disappointed too. Even more so because he's been burping up that croc sausage the past few days. Well, I must admit he was also working on my mom's floor but that's neither here nor there.

Anyway, the guys (and my father-in-law) came over Saturday to put up drywall so it's beginning to look like her place again.

before

now

You can't see my hand anymore woohoo!

For this momentous project we rented a ginormous dumpster. Taking advantage of having a huge receptacle for things that no longer belong in my house, I told Andy to get rid of the hundreds of empty boxes he's kept just in case his Xbox/Rock Band/Guitar Hero/TV/Printer/ETC break. Because he didn't want me to nag and wanted to get to his croc sausage eating, he threw out all the boxes.

Saturday morning, I was walking my mother-in-law to her car after she dropped off my father-in-law when I noticed the Rock Band box sitting on my neighbor Boomhauer's driveway.

I told my mother-in-law that I thought it was weird and she said it might have flown out of the dumpster and since I didn't want Boomhauer to think we were litter bugs, I went to pick it up so I may return it to its new home. I innocently lifted one of the flaps and immediately jumped 10 feet in the air and shrieked like an 11 year old girl! Why? BECAUSE THERE WAS A DEAD CAT IN IT!

Okay calm down. I'm okay now but holy Moses! Way to wake the hell up on a Saturday morn! I immediately went to Andy, the croc sausage eater, and told him to open the box and confirm there was something dead in there and it wasn't my imagination. He wouldn't do it of course even after his mom and I taunted him about how I, A GIRL, saw it and survived but he didn't care. He later found out Boomhauer's wife had seen a cat lying in the street so she asked him to pick up the poor cat. He went into the dumpster grabbed the Rock Band box, scooped it up (I'm sure he also said a prayer or maybe cursed his wife) and then left it on his driveway for next Halloween. He says he didn't know what to do with it but I think it may have served its purpose. TO KEEP ME OFF HIS DRIVEWAY.

Also, I saw a mouse scampering about on the outside walls of my house. Again, I yelled for my Andy, not in fear okay? I know I just told you I shrieked like a little girl when I opened the box but that's because it was unexpected. Mice don't scare me because I eat spiders. So my father-in-law and Andy come out to investigate and there is the poor cute little mouse looking at us with its big eyes and I say "Kill it!" and Andy walks away. See, I think he thought it looked too much like Mocha, his favorite, so he couldn't do it. My father-in-law on the other hand tried slamming a brick on it but it scampered near the roof so he went and got a big board from the dumpster (it seems the dumpster is serving as a place to get coffins and weapons) and tried to squish it but the damn thing flew! I'm not kidding! It flew at him and then landed on the ground where my father-in-law proceeded to look like a Tom and Jerry cartoon in trying to kill it. He stabbed at the ground with the board and tripped and then stabbed at the firewood but the rat bastard got away and went back into Wilson's yard also known as HIS DUMPSTER.

I know what you're thinking, all the exciting shit happens to me.

What's in the box scene from Seven done with puppets. hilarious.

As the Theme to Toy Story says "You've got a friend in me".

I recently received a wonderful and unexpected surprise that was delivered to me by my weary mailman (we have a new strip mall in my neighborhood -uh not the kind of "strip" that involves gyrating to Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar On Me" while glittered, oiled up and vanilla perfumed, m'mkay? I don't need you picturing random people stripping at a mall- so companies have to notify the residents via certified mail that they are putting one of their stores in just in case someone has a problem with a Subway coming to their hood. This makes for one grumpier than usual mail carrier).

I was sitting at home that fateful Friday evening watching Hannah Montana my recorded shows and going through the mail, separating shoe/clothes ads and magazines for me, bills and junk mail for Andy, when I saw a familiar name on an envelope.

The name was of someone I hadn't seen in about 23 years. Is it weird that the friendship I felt after 23 years of not seeing each other hit me with the same power a bulldozer hits a crack house but, you know, nicer? We had written one time before when I was about 19 or 20 and she had asked me if she could maybe come by for spring break. Only problem was, at that time, we were living in a craphole. A horrible ghettoey, rat infested, craphole. I didn't respond and so we lost touch again and I moved about 10 times after that.

Anyway, I did a little jig and then sat down to write her a letter (yes she included her phone number but I'm horrible with calling people and, as we can all agree, I love to blather on in written form). I gave her a brief rundown on my life and gave her my email addresses, the blog name and my cell phone number.

And so started our communication.

She emailed me a couple of pictures of herself, the two other girls who were such a big part of my childhood and me.

I then analyzed myself in those pictures. First I thought how much I looked like my brother Dan (eek!) then I noticed how skinny I used to be and I cried for the poor little Bee that was eaten up by this present day much larger Bee. Finally I noticed how serious I look. It took me back to how miserable I was that year. I stopped caring about anything and felt like I was living someone else's life. There was just too much going on for that girl to handle.

Once I put aside the bad memories of that specific year, I swear all the good ones came flooding back and I started remembering great things about my childhood. Sitting outside until dark and just talking nonsense talk. Playing 'red light green light', 'hide 'n seek', 'mother may I?' etc.

I don't know if she remembers this (and seriously if you're a guy and more specifically if you are a guy RELATED TO ME just turn away from this paragraph) but she was the first person I went to, in HYSTERICS, because I was slowly bleeding to death and what the hell?? This meant my brothers would get my Tonka trucks! She calmly told me it was my first period and to go tell my mom. By the way, I was only 9 so I had no clue of the ways of the woman and no way would my mom have talked to me about it beforehand because she has always been incredibly shy.

I have other memories too of course. Like my first slumber party and watching the 3 stooges while trying to keep our eyes open, how we all used to hang out in her backyard and play on the swing set, the three of us walking to school together...

It's hard to believe that the people you remember as children are now adults with careers, responsibilities and kids. I know it's ridiculous to feel that way. My own life has taken so many turns, why would I think everybody else's would remain the same?

I'm grateful she tracked me down, even though my Andy is all suspicious and wondering if there are any ulterior motives like raiding his comic book collection. excuse me, I meant "" GRAPHIC NOVEL "" collection but I'm glad she was so persistent in finding me because it makes me believe I must have had some sort of an impact in someone's life. Just like she and so many others have had in mine.

P.S.

Yeah yeah. This is the softer side of Bee. So?

Brian reviews Green Day.

This week I asked Brian to review Green Day. Green Day takes me back to my days working at the chicken place and hanging out with my Andy and his green hair (no, it wasn't moldy) prior to us dating.

I picked Basket Case because I used to sing it to Andy all the time when he would start complaining that he was tired of breading gizzards. It worked because then he would start doing that little weird mosh dance and air guitar his ass back to make more chicken.

Speaking of Andy, guess who was in another accident that involved his bumper AGAIN. I swear that man must have a magnet on his butt! Don't worry, he's fine.

And now Brian's review:

Green Day are apparently a punk band. I don't know much about punk, but when I was young, or rather even younger, I had this idea of The Sex Pistols, who were mean, and offensive, who were out to shock people. I also had the feeling that no-one actually thought they were any good, or clever - the younger generation just pretended to like them to annoy their parents.

Nowadays this generation are parents, and even grandparents, and they still pretend to like the Sex Pistols to show how hip they were then, and how cultured their generation were. It's all rather sad really.

The original punk rockers screamed, pissed people off, got attacked in the street by angry mobs for their rendition of "God Save the Queen", and they had colourful names like Johnny Rotten and Sid Vicious. Not like Billie Joe Armstrong. He sounds like a character out of the Waltons. Johnny Rotten got his name from the state of his teeth. Billie Joe is far too fresh-faced. I was amazed to read that he's been making records since 1987, since he looks too young to have been alive then.

As far as being offensive goes, Billie Joe and his band do try a little bit. They certainly choose some dark subjects to sing about, such as zombies, and Basket Case is set in an institution that is exactly like I imagine Bee's workplace to be - bright colours and clinical cleanliness, but inhabited by nutters (and Bee, of course).

Billie Joe appears to have one thing in common with the likes of Johnny Rotten - he can't sing. Or rather, he pretends he can't. I suspect he could if he wanted to. But then, it wouldn't be punk. In fact, change the words appropriately, and you could use this stuff as theme music for children's TV programmes. This is something Green Day should bear in mind in case the bottom ever falls out of the "punk" market.

As far as the music itself goes, it makes fine background music. I find it very difficult to have something playing whilst I'm concentrating on doing anything. That's why I don't listen to a lot of music, because I like to give it my full attention. With Green Day in the background you could extract square roots in your head whilst operating dangerous industrial machinery, and not have to worry about losing so much as a fingertip.

And why not listen to it? After all, it's slightly better than sitting in silence, and it's almost totally inoffensive. Which isn't what I imagined punk would be like. Maybe I'll actually get around to listening to the Sex Pistols one day, so I've something to compare this with, but in the words of Douglas Adams, I'd sum up Green Day as "Mostly Harmless".

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Brian, I wish we had bright colors at Arkham Asylum but unfortunately it's all about shades of gray. Pewter and Silver to be specific. ;o)

From the same people who brought you Interview with a Vegetarian, Bee’s Musings presents: Interview with the guy that I think is the building manager but he might just be an alien.

I decided to interview Norm, the guy who walks around outside and inside of our building with a dust pan, broom, a bunch of keys, a pager, a walkie-talkie and an earpiece. I wanted to ask him WHY the walls to the asylum were yet to be finished since they started the job a couple of weeks ago.
And also, did he have any new bathroom stories for me?

This interview was a little trickier since A) The interviewee likes to go an on and on and on B) He wears shirts almost open to his belly button C) He is too old and um chubby to wear shirts almost open to his belly button  D) HE DOESN’T KNOW I’M INTERVIEWING HIM

Bee: Nice weather we’re having, right? [What? I can’t just walk up to him and start! I need to ease in to this thing so he doesn’t get suspicious.]

Norm: Yes but I can’t wait until it’s 90 degrees out there. I hate wearing a coat! [and yet that is the only thing that keeps me from gagging]

Bee: How do you think the bulls are going to do? [He likes the bulls.]

Norm: Bah! We need Michael Jordan to come back!

Bee: Uh but he’s like 87, what if he breaks a hip?

Norm: Girlie! He is not 87! If Jordan is 87, how old do you think I am? [What is it with people trying to take over the interview??]

Bee: That’s irrelevant to our conversation, Norm. Did you find any more birds in the penthouse? [the 4th floor which is used for storage]

Norm: No, but you’re gonna love this! PROMISE NOT TO TELL ANYBODY??

Bee: I promise not tell anybody that works here.

Norm: [he looks at me sideways so I look back at him front ways] Promise?

Bee: OKAY! [Fingers crossed]

Alright, everyday at about 1:30 the pediatrician’s office on the 3rd floor heard a strange banging noise directly above their waiting room. By the time I would get around to checking it, the noise would be gone and I never saw anything unusual [it takes Norm about half an hour to respond to a page].

When we figured out that it was always at about the same time, I made a point of being in the area once the noise started so I could go check on it. I figured it might be a vent kicking in and the vibrations maybe making some boxes shake.

I got to the penthouse [in my experience, the penthouse is always noisy] and unlocked the storage space for the plastic surgeon’s office because that’s where the noise was coming from and went in I WAS EVEN WHISTELING A NICE TUNE FOR CRIPES SAKE! [he looks around, I look around, he leans in, I am made aware he had meatballs for lunch] when I saw the plastic surgeon and his assistant bumping uglies!

Bee: Holy crap Norm! You had it right when you said banging noises!

Norm: What kind of language is that young lady?

Anyway, the assistant screamed, I backed out of there faster than you can say applesauce and ran down the stairs. I was not waiting for no elevator! About an hour later, I get a page from the plastic surgeon’s direct line. I called him and he asked me to come on over.

I didn’t know what to expect I thought ‘if he tells me I shouldn’t have gone in without his permission so help me I’ll plant his overstretched face through the window’ but no, he asked me if there was anything he could do for me.

Bee: Like he would be your own personal Santa Clause here’s a car ‘do for you’ or did he mean money wise?

Norm: I thought money wise but then he asked ‘is there something you want changed or removed from your person?’ I told him it wasn’t necessary since it’s none of my business how he gets his jollies but all I asked was that he stop taking his romantic interludes up there because the children were now even more afraid to go to the doctor because they thought the building was haunted.

Bee: I can’t believe you didn’t take his offer to fix you up. Not that there’s anything wrong with you…

Norm: At my age what do I need? I mentioned it to the wife and she said she would have liked less wrinkles on her face but I did the right thing.

Bee: Do you think you can tell him I’m your daughter? Maybe he could hook me up.

Norm: Don’t talk nonsense!

Bee: It must be fun to have your job Norm. You have all the cool gossip.

Norm: Fun?? Follow me.

Bee: Where are going? Ooh! Do I get to look at the surveillance monitors?

Norm: No. Stop asking. You see this here? Some woman dropped a plant and just left all this dirt here. You think that’s fun? She couldn't even pick up the pine cone!

Bee: Eww it almost looks like somebody didn’t make it to the bathroom in time!

Norm: Exactly! Then I have them complaining about the fact that we changed the toilet tissue. THIS ISN’T THE HILTON FOR CRIPES SAKE!

Bee: If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t even notice the paper change.

Norm: Hey help me out will ya? That boney lady who works in your office, you know the one who fell off the toilet? Tell her to stop asking me when they’re going to finish the painting! I swear if one more person asks me I’m going to place my foot in their delicates! [oh-oh that sounds mighty ouchy for my delicates]

Bee: No problem, Norm. I’ll tell her to stuff it! I mean so what if the walls look in disrepair? That’s not anybody’s business but yours! So what if I want to bring a paint brush and add a streak of red just so I don’t have to look at the old ugly brown? Doesn’t mean I will. So what—

Norm: All right you wisenheimer. I’m currently having a dispute with the painters if you must know. I told Ollie [not the painter’s real name I just like the name Ollie] to paint the walls a nice Silver and instead he gives me Pewter so they painted the other walls Silver to show me there was no notable difference and I disagreed by telling them they could go climb a tree ass backwards since that’s how they do everything else. It turns out that all painters were fathered by the
same dog so no one will come out and fix it.

Bee: [I nod] I think you presented a very reasonable argument.

Norm: ::shrugs:: Remember, don’t tell anybody!

Then he walked into his “ “ office “ “ and closed the door to our interview. I’m not sure but I think I lost the reins somewhere after Michael Jordan.

I also found it interesting that on my next trip tot he bathroom, he still hadn't picked up the dirt outside of the ladies' room door. I went back and took a picture so you guys could appreciate what he goes through.

The End.

If you missed it:

Interview with a Vegetarian.

Today I felt like a ninja. A kick ass stompy ninja!

I was in the public restroom uh contemplating when I saw a thick legged black spider just chillin at my feet. I could have extended my foot and tried to kill it but what if I missed? I have very short legs and small feet, you know.

I finished what I was doing and pulled up my pants because I did not want that traitorous sucker to climb up the cuffs and also because I can’t walk around bare assed, there’s a signed petition and everything. Then I silently approached it and was about to smash it to smithereens when I thought about my TRS (Terrarium Replacement Spider), Wally (this would be spider #3 for those of you at home keeping track).

I depend on Wally to keep my terrarium free of unwanted gnats and pests so would it be beneficial for me to spare its life? AND THEN IT MOVED! So I ninja stomped its guts out!

Do ninjas stomp? I’m sure they do.

Stay tuned for the next post.
From the same people who brought you Interview with a Vegetarian, Bee’s Musings presents: Interview with the guy that I think is the building manager where I work but he might just be an alien.

P.S.
I forgot my cell phone at home and I am going bananaaaaaaaaas!!

"Bee n' Andy: Married and sometimes, still in love..." - Close encounter of the religious kind.

Last I checked, my back didn't have the word "WELCOME" stenciled on it. You know, because it's not a doormat?

The other day, I was sitting at my desk pondering my bad luck in not being born rich and then thanking the lord I wasn’t because I would probably be more obnoxious than Paris Hilton and that Kardashian chick put together and really who wants that?

I had just had another DISAGREEMENT with Glynda. She was trying to convince me that my getting a paycheck meant my soul belonged to OZ and I was extremely lucky to even have a job in these tough economic times so I should just shut up and scrub the toilet. Not literally m’mkay? I’m just trying to say that they want me to be responsible for everybody and their mistakes plus also be everybody's vacation back up but not give me more money. I was hired for a specific position and being a babysitter/receptionist was not part of the job description. While I don't mind volunteering, I will not be walked on, bullyed or threatened into doing anything.

I gently disagreed with OZ owning my soul and also pointed out that no, he was lucky to have ME in these tough economic times. At her look of disbelief I elaborated that I, Bee Lastname, am not a believer in 1) Belittling anyone (unless I hate you and in that case I don't have control over my tongue) 2) LETTING myself FEEL belittled (because I can’t stop people from trying to belittle me, I can only stop my reaction to their stupidity)

I am an independent thinker that is not easily brainwashed into believe that OZ is my savior.

This information did not go over well with Glynda. In fact she huffed and she puffed- oh wait that a different story book- well, she put me in the crap house again.

Back to my ponderings. I was wondering what made me so different from the other lackeys who work here that enjoy bemoaning the footprints on their foreheads but never fight back because they think “he'll fire me and who will hire me?”. This led me to a shocking revelation. I have the Jehovah’s Witnesses to thank.

You read that right.

picture is from an issue of the Jehovah's Witnesses magazine on the children who have died because they were not given blood transfusions that may have saved their lives.

You see, being in the Jehovah's Witnesses (JWs) opened my eyes to something I might have missed had I not been a part of this cult. I may call it a cult because I was in it for a few years so I feel I have the right to shed a light into some of my experiences.

I was very young when we became JWs and my pops thought he had found his religion. He also sold Amway so I’m thinking he was halfway to Brainwashville and didn’t have a chance.

Even at a young age, I remember thinking that their teachings were a big crock of shit. Or crock of doo-doo since I didn’t swear back then. I noticed how the elders were always men in the upper middle class while the rest of us broke asses were delegated to do the grunt work. You know, going from house to house and getting the doors slammed in our faces? (Stories for another day)

I remember seeing the yearning in my dad’s eyes to fit in with those phonies and doing anything they asked just so they’d notice him. I hated that. You see, I knew how smart my dad was (during our stint in the JWs he was sober which I guess they did us some good for those few years), he was attractive (and this I new because of the women always staring at him), he had a gorgeous wife (and this I knew because of the men always staring at her) and a beautiful family if I do say so myself.

I didn’t feel the elders deserved the reverence everybody else showed them, respect maybe but washing their feet in a bowl of milk and lavender? I don’t think so.

As an example I give you one of the yearly pilgrimages which in this case took place in Arizona. The motel where we stayed had a swimming pool and I remember thinking ‘yay pool!’ Well they made the kids exit the pool at about 7pm so the grown ups could swim. Crummy but that’s not what this story is about.

We were sitting in the hallway outside of our motel room with our legs dangling down from the railing of the second floor. From there we had a clear view of the pool and we noticed that there were only 2 people left in there. One was one of the elder dudes who was married and the other was a young single woman who came with her sister.

They were awfully chummy. Hugging and laughing while splashing around in the pool. We decided to give his wife a little help in the cooling his pants department (okay, not really trying to help his wife, we were just kids but we knew he was doing something wrong). I got up, grabbed a bucket of ice and we started throwing ice cubes into the pool. We weren't trying to hit them and that was made apparent by us sending the ice cubes softly to the other side of the pool. I was probably 9 or so and I’m assuming my partner in crime was my brother Sergio since Dan has always been a goody 2 shoes and was probably sleeping.

The elder guy started yelling at us and his moobs were shaking as he tried climbing out of the pool. We ran into our room and dissolved in a fit of giggles. The next day, at the JW assembly, he came up to me and grabbed my arm whispering that he knew it was us throwing ice and blah blah. I remember yelling as loud as I could “LET GO OF MY ARM! YOU’RE HURTING ME!!” and then people turning to look and his face getting all red and then laughing it off like it was no big deal. Hearing the commotion, his wife came over and I decided to apologize for my bad behavior. We were at a place of worship after all, “I’m sorry we threw ice while you and that lady were hugging in the pool.”

I don’t know what happened to them because I don’t remember anything else about them after that.

Example # 2

I went to school with one of the elder’s (not the same elder who was frolicking in the pool) sons. He was a short little bastard who thought it was okay to corner me by the lockers when we were in junior high. He thought it was okay until I slammed his head against a locker and punched him in the gut. When he threatened to tell his dad so my dad could get in trouble I dared him to go ahead because I really didn’t care.

This is where my epiphany comes in.

See, what my father failed to see is that yes, the elders may have had a higher education and more material things (which is really not living the life they evangelize) but in my head, that just makes them more polished but not better than us. The fact that I resisted their brainwashing at such a young age and I was able to see through their self righteousness made me immune to any future jackholes trying to make me believe I was beneath them. Nobody has the power to make me feel inferior but me and why would I give someone that power? That just doesn’t make sense.

I’ve used that logic in every aspect of my life. When dating, I waited for the right guy to come along who appreciated me and basically deserved having me (we can all agree I'm pretty cool) and sent the rest packing. Lucky Andy! Coincidentally, he and his family were JWs for many years too. In dealing with people or mindlessly following crowds- nu-uh I do things because I want to and if others are doing it too, coolio. But! Let's not remember my skiing trip please because that was a total lapse in judgment!

This brings me back to the present day. OZ is a respected surgeon and I’m sure he worked hard to get where he is but so what? I worked hard to get where I am too. What makes his journey more special than mine? What makes him a better human being than me?

He may have more zeros and commas in his bank account but that doesn’t make my life worth less than his.

Sure, my ambition wasn’t high since all I have ever wanted was my family to be healthy and happy, my own home, a decent car and as a bonus, a man who loves me. I’d say my path was the right one since I’m right where I want to be.

The moral of this story? OZ (and people like him) can kiss my unpolished ass.

Brian reviews METALLICA! Enter Sandman.

Okay, you guys will be shocked by Brian's review this week. I know I was. But then I wasn't because Metallica rocks. Although I wish they would stop being such bitches about their music and post videos on youtube already. I think it's cool exposing Brian to " "new" " music. And also, Metallica has never sounded so classy... or delicious.

Here we go:

The aptly named Metallica are like Ludwig Van Beethoven. Beethoven's music sounded crap on the latest pianos of his day. Of course, this wasn't a problem for him due to his deafness, but it led to vast improvements in piano technology.

Similarly, Metallica's brand of music must have sounded rubbish on the amplification equipment being used by the likes of the Commodores, not to mention law enforcement agencies, and so much more heavy duty amps and speakers were needed. Though, like Beethoven, I suspect that the Metallica musicians might be going deaf by now.

Metallica are a thrash metal band. This is apparently a subgenre of heavy metal. Heavy metal became popular in the 1970s when the music industry was facing a huge problem. Air time on the radio was vital to their sales, but as more and more people drove everywhere it was realised that they couldn't actually hear the music over the low frequency roar of their engines. Heavy metal changed all that. Now people couldn't hear their engines and kept stalling, which is why Americans switched to driving automatics.

If you want another comparison with classical music (of course you do), then I'd say that Metallica are like Johann Sebastian Bach. Bach was an organist, which meant that he sat there dwarfed by all the massive pipes and made loud music that wasn't exactly to everyone's taste, in a church full of devout worshippers.

The worshippers at the Church of Metallica are all clearly having a great time. It must take a huge amount of charisma, not to mention guts, to stand there, like  cathedral organist, dwarfed by the enormity of their sound systems, not to mention the crowd.

The performance has almost everything. Pyrotechnics, the all-important drum beat, noise, and (I'm told) heartfelt lyrics, though I couldn't make out a word of them. I was very disappointed that they didn't smash up their guitars - that was the bit I was really looking forward to.

Listening to Metallica reminded me of eating curry. At one extreme you get the easy-to-eat but unexiting Korma, and at the other there's no flavour - just relentless painful heat. Or in the case of Metallica the relentless harsh noise. Enter Sandman was a bit too harsh for my taste, and as usual I preferred some of their other songs. But there's something addictive about the heat in a spicy curry, and I found the same thing with this music. I don't think I'd want to risk damaging my hearing by going to a concert, but I was absolutely astounded to find that I enjoyed it.

Metallica are like Wagner. Their music is better than it sounds. Actually, I preferred their music to Wagner's. I'm almost tempted to buy a CD.

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There you have it Metallica fans, Brian's seal of approval.

Stay tune tomorrow for a Bee epiphany where I thank the Jehovah's Witnesses. You read that right.

P.S.

Also, thanks for the suggestions on my "About Me" and no Dan, I shall not blog about me pulling a knife on some guys! Jeez this here is a friendly blog! Sort of. I went over to read John J Savo, The Authoring Auctioneer's Mission Statement and I have to say, if I didn't already admire his skills, I'd be a convert. You must go see what I'm talking about because the man can spin the written word.

P.P.S.

Thanks to James Hetfield (back then not now), I am going to grow my hair out again and hopefully not look like Lars (DAN!!)

About Me?

Okay you guys, I've been working on my "About Me" page (why? because I'm vain why else?) but I couldn't figure out what else to put on there that I haven't said before. Please read it and give me any comical helpful suggestions in the comment section.

I guess this is where I talk about me which is weird because that's what my blog is about, you know, me?


-->Anyway, I was born and raised in a small California town, not saying where because you will just google me and invade my privacy by calling all my old friends and demanding interviews.
Unfortunately, my family lived the lives of nomads so I didn't really grow roots in any one place. when i see a picture of someone I know, I never really can tell where it was that I met them. In this town? How about that one? Because of this, I hesitate to say stuff like 'oh yeah! that's so and so!' because it might not be *so and so*. Does that make sense? Whatever.

Anyway!

I'm the first born ('oldest' and 'eldest' are for tomatoes and reverends) of 5 kids. I have 3 brothers and 1 sister, 2 nieces and one on the way and probably already here by the time you're reading this, 2 dogs, some fish (the fish population is diminishing by the minute in fact, I think I just heard one die), 1 mom, 1 dad (he's here somewhere) and only ONE husband. I have no idea how polygamist do it because I feel one husband is all I can handle. Unless Brad Pitt becomes available but then thinking about it more seriously, do I want all those kids in my life? No, not really so I think I'll stick to just one husband.

Where was I? Oh yes, me. Uhm I work in an asylum, not really an asylum in that it is a place where you keep the mentally ill, more like a place where the mentally ill work. I include myself among them so don't think I'm being mean.

I live in a suburb outside of Chicago but if anybody asks I still say I live in Chicago.

Let's see what else, what else?

Oh yes! I have a scar on my lip from being thrown millions of feet while my uncle was trying to save me from a giant charging pig when I was 2. I personally think the pig just wanted to play.

I think that's all for now. Maybe I'll come back and add more juicy stuff later. Like the time I was jumped outside of a club and lost my shoe in the snow…

Weekend Andyisms.

When trying to talk me into seeing The Watchmen:

... and there will be full frontal male nudity so there's that. [um you've seen one, you've seen them all]

After watching The Watchmen:

There was less male nudity than I thought. I mean yeah Dr. Manhattan was naked all the time but he was all glowly blue so you couldn't really tell. [... ? ...]

Censored for your protection.

While waiting to exit a lane in the supermarket parking lot and people blocking his way:

Come on! Let's go you fuckwads!! What am I? At the nexus of the universe? [what does that even mean?]

When driving home, after leaving the nexus of the universe, he let me know he really had to pee. I asked him if he wanted a piece of yummy, fresh from the oven, french bread:

Yeah. Maybe it'll soak up my pee. [ewwwww]

While getting ready for bed and battling a moth:

Who the fuck is bringing moths into the house?? [Yes babe because we herd them inside and offer them a nice pair of socks to munch on]

After telling him I was in pain and could he stop with the bear hugs?:

But hugs make the world feel better. [awwww I shall embroider that on a nice pillow and then sit on that pillow]

And last but no least.

When demonstrating concern for our mental health:

I don't think we drink enough liquor. [amen my husband. AMEN!!]

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I was looking for a cute picture of My Andy to post with Andyisms and I came across the one below. I thought "How cute! Here he is after he and Natalia went on the Ferris Wheel!" and then I noticed the beyotch checkin out his booty! Freakin' cougar! If I see her around I'm gonna make her smile come out of the back of her head!

"Bee n' Andy: Married and sometimes, still in love..."- Young at heart.

All lies of course. I am so not a Hannah Montana fan! I mean, the show is for kids and all...

I just wanted to say that we might have to postpone "Bee n' Andy" for a little while because we are at the critical part of the remodel downstairs. Andy has been really busy (I typed in *busty* by mistake because I'm high but then I caught myself just in time cuz you guys don't need to know the state of my man's moobs) and as a matter of fact Saturday was a bitch of a day where the guys worked their asses off and the non stop rain decided to piss on their parade.

They dug a hole in the laundry room to install the sump pump and get it ready for next weekend, you know what happened? The fuckin hole filled up with water and then it made the plastic pit rise and the gravel they so lovingly sifted in there floated up and it reminded me of the famous fable where some bird was thirsty but he couldn't fit his beak in this wine bottle and hello! wine for a bird? what the hell? but anyway it transferred pebble after pebble into the bottle until the liquid (which I'm really hoping wasn't wine because I think it would be bitter and more vinegar-like than wine-like if the bottle was sitting there open in the sun) rose to the top. Yup that's the same thing that happened with the pit. And also, they had mixed some cement which didn't have time to set so I'm assuming we will have a nice goopy puddle of runny cement downstairs by the morning.

I know you guys are probably sick of hearing me go on and on about the stupid flood but believe me, we're tired of having to deal with it.

To try and make my blood pressure go down, we will go see The Watchmen today and have some nachos... except, they're probably high in sodium!

Sweet Nibblets!!

So there I sat, holding my urine sample while a little boy stared at me in wide eyed wonder...*

Yeah so I went to the doctor and I have awesome news for you guys (me too I guess). I will not be dying any time soon. Well, let's hope I can still out run those ninja assassins. I was also given the great news that I am not pregnant which I already knew but it's always good to hear over and over and especially coming from a licensed professional.

My doctor is an old school little polish lady who believes babies cure all. Why would I say that, you ask. Well she asked me if there were any babies in my future and I said I'm sure there will be but hopefully the stork will bypass my house and drop them off at my sister's or brothers' houses and she said "Deese health problems you have because you have no babies. A baby will change your body and you see everything be better. Babies are the answer to all problems!"

Say hhhwat??

I guess we've been taking the wrong approach to things like the economy, war and bacon. You heard or, erm, read it here first people! Go out and have yourself a baby and your problems will evaporate!

It also turns out my blood pressure was way over what anybody would call ""normal"" it was over what anybody would call ""abnormal"" so I got the famous speech of "eat right, exercise, stop-killing-people-with-your-mind" etc. I tried explaining to her that I had just had a very stressful day and maybe that's why they were getting a TNT reading and you can't really tell me those automated blood pressure machines are infallible. This didn't stop them from trying to get a better reading oh no no no. That automated sucker just kept puffing up and squeezing the hell out of my arm until my hand was purple and beginning to lose feeling. My upper arm now has little red blood marks from where the stupid machine was trying to drain my soul.

But otherwise, my doctor and her staff are nice people and if it weren't for the fact that they've come at me with needles and made me pee into things, I might consider asking them over for dinner.

Anyway, I didn't go in to work because I was still achey-in-the-kidney and my Andy being the lovable guy he is decided to bring me a gift:

Some women like flowers and candy but not this chick!

*True story.

Brian reviews P!nk. And then goes into the witness protection and relocation program.

This week, I asked Brian to review P!nk. What he didn’t know is that I am one of the biggest P!nk fans ever to buy her CDs and put them on repeat. Since I disagree with some of his review, I have decided to interject my dissatisfaction of his comments IN RED. Is that fair? Probably not but LIFE isn’t fair! Just ask the little people who played munchkins in the Wizard of OZ. Only you can’t because they’re dead! (I personally had nothing to do with their deaths and am assuming they all died of natural causes. Maybe.)

As a warning, nobody be mean to Brian for he knows not what he says. And P!nk? If you’re reading this, Brian is at Brian o Vretanos.

So here we go:

This week, I was sent an email with my assignment, should I choose to accept it. I clicked on the included link in the nick of time - just before the email self-destructed, also charring the other contents of my inbox.

---So far so good Brian. Made me giggle.--

My mission? Well, it was codenamed "P!nk". I'm not quite sure whether the exclamation mark is silent.

--No, it’s not silent Brian. The exclamation mark carries a strong !’m-gonna-rock-the-fuckin-house-bust-some-guts-and-take-no-prisoners sound.--

Although this song is called "Sober", I think it is probably best listened to accompanied by something intoxicating. I'd recommend either drinking alcohol (Scotch seems to work), or watching the video. The video is entertaining, well made, and tells a story. I watched some more of her videos, and I enjoyed them all.

--Good advice. Everything is better with booze.--

This particular one has views of a place, of someone talking on the "big white telephone", P!nk herself in various states of undress, some lesbian action which as far as I could make out (the pause button was very useful here) was supposed to be her with herself. If this all sounds a little bizarre, it makes complete sense when it's put together. Whoever is responsible for directing her videos does a very good job.

--I agree. This video was a great compliment to the haunting lyrics that to me meant she was trying to put her needs before anyone else’s.--

But what about the song itself? My first thought was that it was monotonous and that P!nk was far too concerned with projecting an attitude. The words are clear, understandable and fit together, but unfortunately they don't fit with the music. This is something that really irritates me, in any genre. Things like "Why do I feel this party's o-VER?", or "BARoken down". This is clearly part of her attitude.

--I agree with her wanting to portray Attitude since the lyrics say she is putting on a “I’m a strong bad ass and can take all the shit you throw at me” façade but the message is that she needs a way of dealing with difficult situations without having to resort to chemical dependency. And! "" o-VER?", or "BARoken down""". bri-AN!--

The other attitude thing is her voice itself. It's not a bad voice, but it's one of those that sounds like she has to smoke 20 or 30 cigarettes before each song. I always wonder how people that sing like that manage not to go hoarse. And whether they actually smoke that many, or just inhale a couple of those impossibly large executive cigars.

--Now now, Brian. No need to get mean. Some men find that kind of a voice hot ::cough cough::. It may not be worthy of an Italian opera but every word is filled with emotion nonetheless. I’d take her brand of singing any day over someone just yodeling in Italian. BRIAN!--

I also mentioned that I thought it was monotonous. I suspect that without the video I wouldn't have managed to listen to it once, let alone five or six times over. It just seems to go on and on with not a lot happening. This was my first thought. Afterwards I listened to some of her other offerings, and looked at as one part of a varied collection, it wasn't so bad. I don't know whether or not the ones I heard were all on the same album, though.

--To be fair to you, you are a dude. This song hits a lot of us women in the darkest corners of our soul. It’s like our own cry for help but the person we are appealing to is ourselves. I give you for evidence these lyrics: “When it's good, then it's good, it's so good, 'till it goes bad. Till you're trying to find the you that you once had” She is battling herself. Word.--

My conclusion? P!nk's songs and videos are entertaining and full of spirit and humour. This particular one on it's own seemed to lack these qualities, and were just full of attitude. And I didn't like her attitude.

--She does have a lot of humorous songs but this one wasn’t meant to be funny. It told about a woman with inner struggles who was just trying to find a way out. I guess the reason I love her music is because she doesn't put out the same old sappy love songs (as evidence by the one I'm dedicating to my Andy below). --

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Upon reading Brian’s review, it is as I suspected. Men fear women who won’t make them omelets and rub their feet. BRIAN!

My next pick for him will be a MAN. If you guys have any suggestions as to who he should review, drop me an email so he doesn’t know ahead of time.

beesmusings[@]gmail.com


P.S.
Babe, if you're reading this, this is our song (again my apologize to Mom R who has to witness our psycho relationship):

Ahhh the beauty of having severe pain!

Bee (calling primary care physician):
Hi, I was wondering if I could make an appointment.

Magda (nice polish woman who works for my doctor):
Sure, first appointment is for the 21st of March.

Bee:
Oh okay.

Magda:
Is it a well exam?

Bee:
No, my kidneys hurt.

Magda:
We will see you tomorrow! What’s the matter why you not tell me first!

Bee:
Because I’m not feeling well. I’m also lightheaded.

Magda:
How long you feel this way?

Bee:
Well, lightheaded is an everyday thing for me Magda. I didn’t think it was cause for alarm.

Magda:
I would pull your ears off. Doctor just left otherwise you’d come TODAY.

Bee:
If you pull my ears off you better not bill me to fix them.

Magda:
Hahahahaha! Don’t drive yourself understand??

Bee:
My insurance doesn’t cover chauffeurs. Or maids.

Magda:
Hahahahhaha! I look forward to taking your blood.

And so she wins that one.

Don’t forget, tomorrow is Brian’s Music review (where I might punch him in the kidneys!)(just kidding)(maybe).

From the same people that loved reading Interview with a Vampire, Bee’s Musings presents: Interview with a Vegetarian.

From the moment I met her I was intrigued. A person that doesn’t enjoy sinking their teeth into a bloody filet mignon?? I knew of their existence but I had never before come face to face with one. Or maybe I had but they blend in with us regular carnivores so well that I had not seen the signs.

I approached her with caution. Would she think my fingers were baby carrots and start munching away?

For the sake of humanity (and some good vegetarian casserole recipes), I decided to have a sit down interview with this strange being. I will ask her my serious questions and report her answers and reactions EXACTLY as she gives them.

I served donuts and coffee. Don’t worry, I did read the label to make sure there was no meat products in the ingredients list.

Bee: Hi Maria, you may know me as Rick’s sister and aunt to your baby. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?

Maria: It’s fine, I don’t mind.

Bee: How did you become a vegetarian? Were you infected by a virus, attacked by a bunch of celery or were you created in a lab?

Maria: [giggle] Created in a lab [laughs]

Bee: So you don’t eat anything that might have had a face on it at one time, right? Is it because you fear their souls coming back and nibbling at your toes?

Maria: [laughs giggle] Yes I am very fearful.

Bee: What about those veggies that are shaped like human genitalia would you eat those?

Maria: [shocked] What?? I haven't seen them. I’d be interested in seeing them.

Bee: But, would you eat them?

Maria: As long as they taste like regular veggies.

Bee: Okay, let’s say you are walking by the side of the road and found a dead cow, would you not even eat it then?? I don’t mean to judge but it would be so wasteful for you not to.

Maria: [laughs] I don’t think so! I’d give it a proper burial though. Did you make up these questions??

Bee: Yes I did but let’s not make this about me m’mkay?? Were you traumatized when they discovered beef flavoring in McDonald’s French fries? Like would you have preferred they be seasoned with asparagus instead?

Maria: I HAD NO IDEA! I guess that means no more fries for me! [looks sad... and a little hungry so I hide my fingers].

Interviewers note—they stopped doing that because the argument was raised stating that if no beef is used in their burgers, they shouldn’t use it in their fries either.

Bee: So when you’re walking down the grocery aisle and you see an eggplant, is the desire to eat it so irresistible that you lose control and devour it while the broccoli screams?

Maria: No, I have more of a desire for lettuce. I’m not a big fan of eggplant.

Bee: Shhh!! The vegetarian militia might hear you! [I get up to make sure there were no radishes storming my castle] Are there many people like you?

Maria: [gives me an odd look. almost as if she thinks my sanity is not all there] I know of at least 2 people who are more extreme than me.

Interviewers note— she didn’t say it but these 2 extremists might be responsible for the Great Tomato Massacre of 1812.

Bee: In closing, what can we do to prevent vegetarianism from spreading?

Maria: Nothing. I suggest you do nothing.

Bee: What do you mean, nothing?? Isn't it contagious??

Maria: No! It’s not like it’s airborne.

Interviewers note— I wish I would have known that before buying this Hazmat suit! Now I’m all sweaty.

Maria, thank you for being such a great sport! Can you do me a favor and tell others of your kind that we come in peace and are only looking for a great cut of meat? And I personally am a strong supporter of grilled onions... on a GREAT BIG BACON CHEESEBURGER! Dammit! Now I'm hungry!

P.S.

I apologize for any babbling I might have done on yesterday's double post but my filter was slightly off.