for god's sake you dumb motherfuckers, that's no way to treat deez beez
― vahid (vahid), Sunday, 14 January 2007 00:15 (eighteen years ago)
it is because unlike beez, wasps are PREDATORS
― vahid (vahid), Sunday, 14 January 2007 00:32 (eighteen years ago)
seriously though i am genuinely phobic of wasps. one time this HUGE wasp got in my room and it was buzzing around (oooh how that buzzing noise CREEPS me out *shivers*) and i broke down into a panic. i had to leave the room and have my little sister come kill it. this was like 2 years ago. pathetic.
― latebloomer da nutty tarkovsky (latebloomer), Sunday, 14 January 2007 00:41 (eighteen years ago)
(of me, obviously, not my brave lil sis)
― latebloomer da nutty tarkovsky (latebloomer), Sunday, 14 January 2007 00:44 (eighteen years ago)
i keep reading this as
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRZ
and am sad that i have no beer
and that even though i just saw 'children of men' and really liked it one of the things i'm remembering most about it right now is that one scene where he's got 3 pints of great looking reddish beer in front of him and i said quietly at the time "mmm, beeeeer"
poor beez.
― rrrobyn, breeze blown meadow of cheeriness (rrrobyn), Sunday, 14 January 2007 04:20 (eighteen years ago)
"FROM THE PRODUCER OF PARENTHOOD"
Is that all the marketing department for My Girl could come up with?
― latebloomer da nutty tarkovsky (latebloomer), Sunday, 14 January 2007 13:56 (eighteen years ago)
Where is Anna Chlumsky these days, anyway?
Nevermind, the internet just told me.
― Forksclovetofu (Forksclovetofu), Sunday, 14 January 2007 17:34 (eighteen years ago)
ok i can't believe someone brought up my girl! this movie is guaranteed to make me cry to this day. "HE NEEDS HIS GLASSES! HE CAN'T SEE WITHOUT HIS GLASSES!" poor thomas j.
i keep thinking it sez beeeeeeerz too, robyn!
― zombierza (tehresa), Sunday, 14 January 2007 17:40 (eighteen years ago)
Bees. Swarming buzzing bees. Tickling temperamental bees. Bees with
pointy painful stingers.
The boy poured honey down his back and shook his buttocks left to right.
The naked crazy boy. He passed by the beehives, jogging not running. Taking
his sweet innocent time, through the grass, toward the white perfumy clover
field. The bees rose in a fuzzy brown boil, filtered out their hive, cleaved
the air like an arrow aiming for honey-dripping bare-bummed Johnny. Little
Johnny boy smiled broad and white, his feet advancing toward the clover, tossing
his hips from side to side, breathless voice issuing forth, "Beeeeez.
Zzzzzzzhahahahahaaaaaaaa."
Little Johnny boy slipped a finger between his perspiring crack, taking
away honey as if from the stale edges of a white bread sandwich. Johnny loved
the bees, almost as much as the sticky sweet clinging of honey that formed and
hung like stalactites from his perineum, dripped dripping drops.
The bees closed in. Thousands of bees, their murmuring buzzing chorus
titillating little Johnny boy, stingers angry and shining in the sun, quivering
mad. Johnny jogged toward the clover field, licking his finger of the sweet
sweaty honey. Honeybuns, Johnny thought, and laughed until he fell rolling over
the start of clover. Honeybuns, thought Johnny, and he laughed, giggled, a
smile playing over his bare freckled puss. "Beeeeeeez!" Johnny exclaimed, as a
fuzzy buzzing cloud converged on little Johnny's honey sticky ass.
The sun rolled in golden fury, and hours later, when it had turned a dark
red, and sunset swollen, little Johnny boy lay stiff and puffy, pink and happy,
dead stinking sweet.
― elmo argonaut (allocryptic), Sunday, 14 January 2007 20:06 (eighteen years ago)