Wake up.
Oh, my God, you’re a bee. Why are you talking to me?
We read comment threads. We know when a little girl needs to have her mind and heart expanded.
I’m thirty years old.
As long as you hate and fear bees, you will be forever a child.
Okay.
Pardon?
Okay, that sounds good.
No, we’re proposing to shrink you down to bee-size, give you wings, and then fly together over field and dale. You will slowly learn about the fragile nature of our beautiful blue-green earth. About the gentle, misunderstood nature of your winged sisters and brothers.
That sounds like one of those Sophie’s World deals, to be honest, and I’m just not into it. Maybe it’s more Ishmael, which is even worse.
It will change your entire life; you will no longer be able to move through your day unaware of the thinly-woven fabric of interconnectedness in which we are all but tiny stitches.
I would prefer not.
If we were rabbits, would you take us up on the offer?
Almost certainly.
See, it’s hard for us not to take offense at that.
Did Richard Adams write anything transcendent about the inner life of the bee? Did I miss it?
You will be the Richard Adams of the bees. You will make us come alive for children.
Like “hey, kids, leave a glass of non-diet soda on the porch and wait twenty minutes”? For that, I don’t need to get out of bed.
Was it not Kahlil Gibran who said: “But it is also the pleasure of the flower to yield its honey to the bee. For to the bee a flower is a fountain of life, and to the flower a bee is a messenger of love, and to both, bee and flower, the giving and the receiving of pleasure is a need and an ecstasy? People of Orphalese, be in your pleasures like the flowers and the bees.”
Am I back at Anglican summer camp, that we’re reading Gibran to each other? Or are we at a hippie wedding?
We offered you paradise. You would have experienced emotions a hundred times greater than what you call love. And a thousand times greater than what you call fun. You would have been treated like a god and lived forever in beauty. But, now, because of your distrustful nature, that can never be.
That’s just The Simpsons. You are just doing The Simpsons now.
Goodbye.
Wait, bee?
Yes?
(shoe flies through air, silence reigns)
Tags: bees, humor, mystical journeys, weird true tales
not sure I have anything to add to this. except that I for one welcome our new bee overlords (wait, now I’m just doing the Simpsons)
¡Ay, que lastima! Un zapato grande!
For the first year of dating my boyfriend, I managed to pretend I was this calm and collected person who wasn’t afraid of bugs and snakes like regular people. And then one day a bee flew at me and I made a really unfortunate squealing noise as I ducked to get out of its way and now the secret’s out. 🙁
I do feel that if I knew what life was like for them, I might be less afraid of them though.
I can’t even pretend. When I was single I wished I had an ex boyfriend who would come over and kill the bugs for me.
I helped a biologist friend of mine in college to “tag” (with little dots of paint) baby bumblebees that were used in various behavioral experiments. It was just us in a tent with thousands of these just-hatched bees that couldn’t fly yet. They were cute.
Fun fact: a bee’s stinger doesn’t harden until like 48 hours after they hatch, so at that stage, they’re harmless. It was fun.
Did you squish them up, and if so, was your mommy proud of you?
I did not.
Glad to hear it. That does sound like a pretty awesome experience, seriously.
Didn’t hurt that I had a huge crush on said biologist friend and we wound up dating not long after that. It was meant to “bee”!!! 😀
Except it wasn’t and we eventually broke up.
let’s BEE friends
Sorry to hear that. Breakups sure do sting.
It’s OK, honey. I dealt with it by getting good and buzzed. Hive recovered pretty well since then.
Comb on, you had to go and use three puns in one comment? What’s left for me?
All of you making puns must be under the misapprehension that this is a site for men and other people who enjoy word-based humo(ur). When, in fact, it is about stealthily building up an army to kill the bees.
I did notice it was a little WASPy in here…
Are you saying I missed all the worldplay? Well that’s just swell.
You can try to eliminate puns all you want, but I will continue to soldier on.
I love all pollinators. Don’t be a pollinator hater. To hate the bees is to hate the hummingbirds and butterflies. And BLORPULAR BUMBLES.
Look, bees drinking water! You can help bees by making a little bee drinking station. A bee bar!!!
WHY WOULD I HELP THEM?
Mary Russell/Sherlock Holmes novel potential?
Honey cake?
so scared of bees I’m not even going to pretend
I’d love this so much if it didn’t end in bee murder 🙁
Considering the bee lifespan, it’s more like I upped his morphine on the way out.
Twelve (TWELVE!) years after reading Watership Down, I’m still all “Rabbits aren’t cute, they’re WARRIOR POETS.” It’s good. I feel good about it.
what’s the deal with… THE TOAST’S SALACIOUS ANTI-BEE PROPAGANDA?????
Anybody remember that song by Aqua (of Barbie Girl fame) that was not-at-all ostensibly about bees but really about the joys of sleeping around?
“I know I’m not the only flower you see, but what can I do, you are a good looking bee” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0GR6z5x55Lo
When I was six exploring the forest behind our house with my mom, I stepped on a nest of beestings which had been dislodged from a tree after a hurricane, and five of them flew up and stung me on my inner thighs. Hurt. Like. Hell.
Is it just me, Nicole or are you – you’re shimmering.
Is it just me, Nicole or are you – you're shimmering.
For a superior race, they really rub it in.
BEES. BEES. I WILL BE YOUR RICHARD ADAMS. PICK ME, PICK ME.
Holy shit y’all. Two bee posts in two days and yet NO ONE has posted the best gif in the history of the internet?
I’m disgusted with all of you.
BLESS.
THIS IS INDEED THE BEST GIF
The first time I saw it I spent two days crying with laughter and a year later I’ve only just got to the point where I don’t snort loudly at work when remembering it unexpectedly.