Tuesday, October 11, 2011

A Columbus Day Tribute

Dear Chris,

Your navigation system malfunctioned. Please lower your sails and reverse course. Oh, and by the way, you are a bit late in your claim to fame. The large land mass that you claim in the name of Spain has   already been deeded to Italy. Ooops.

In other news, I hate big-assed bees.

Not those plump, striped bumblebees that resemble John Belushi, land on flowers and suck nectar from stamens before heading home to pollinate their bitchy queens... no. I'm referring to those big-, hulking, steroid-laden thoraxed fuckers that sound like Vietnam-era choppers in an 80's Rambo movie as they stare you in the eye as you're trying to enjoy a moment in the sun. Imagine a family of east German powerlifters with fluttering arms the size of snowshoes and javelins protruding from  their asses chasing you from your front porch. Those are the bees to which I refer.

I don't even know what species of bee this is. I'm not even sure 'bee' is a big enough word. I'm fairly certain a sting from a killer bee would result in a visit to the hospital ER and a sting from the Steroid bee would result in amputation and a future resemblance to Marty Feldman.

In any case, I hate bees. Almost as much as I hate spiders. You put wings on a spider and you have the ultimate weapon. I sure hope al Queda isn't listening. Or Bank of America. Can you imagine the forclosure rate that Bank of Ammerica would ennjoy if their mortgaged homes were populated by winged, huge-thoraxed spider-bees?

No longer would BofA refer to only their call center employees as eight-legged freaks.

Then again, back to the original sentiment... Mr. Columbus. Enjoy your holiday. Like most noteworthy conquerors, you sailed in, you landed,, you instilled fear and you left a stinging impression that we celebrate to this day.

You big fucking spider-bee.

Tomorrow the liquor stores re-open.

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