The Buzz

Let the Honey Be Your Guide

I love Honey Nut Cheerios. I mean that the way a man would love a woman enough to stand before friends, relatives, and strangers and say "I do." Possibly beyond, I love Honey Nut Cheerios to the point that its perverse. Thats right, loving a cereal as one would a woman isn't perverse enough. I could have sex in a tub full of milk and buckets of Honey Nut Cheerios falling over us like water from the shower-head. I would buy an edible blow-up doll if it was made from Honey Nut Cheerio grain. I don't even want to get into how much I love honey, that's another matter completely.

Its a pretty good cereal and I've been faithful since I was a child to these sandy rings that come alive in milk, soak up and vibrantly excite any breakfast with that first dripping spoonful. And how can you go wrong with Honey and Nuts? Its a pretty good cereal!

I don't know about that bee...the lovable honey bee with that stupid face and cheery attitude...smiling and talking. I can't remember a time when I saw a real bee and my first thought wasn't to slap the air or move out of the way; compromising my cool to whoever happens to see from a distance a grown man twisting and jerking like an apoplectic idiot. Bees don't smile and they certainly don't look like BuzzBee. And furthermore, they would never pour honey over cereal. Because Bees make honey only for themselves. BuzzBee, in real life, would not be as cooperative as the cereal box implies about sharing his/her Honey.

Bee aside, Honey Nut Cheerios is awesome. What about squirrels? Honey and bees, squirrels and nuts; I think Honey Nut Cheerios should have dual mascots. The box should show a bee on one corner making Honey, a squirrel on the opposite corner gathering nuts and then John D. Rockefeller in-between stealing from both!

I love Honey Nut Cheerios!

Remember Honey I Shrunk the Kids? Chilling on a Cheerio Lifesaver, if I were stranded out in a milk sea on a Honey Nut Cheerio, I'd drown but I'd be one full, satisfied corpse.

People Thought Honey was Made by Magic!

What's better than honey? A honeybee. Has anyone, any artist, inventor, or craftsman created anything as good as honey, ever? No.

I want a honeybee the size of a bull dog as a pet. I'll name him Aldous, or her Pollie. We'll get into wild mystery solving adventures, (think Scooby-Doo but with a non-talking giant, buzzing honey bee). I'll feed him/her honey nut cheerios, golden grams, honey buns and we'll hang out watching TCM with good old Robert Osborne introducing each feature. "Hahahaha," my honey bee and I will whip our heads back laughing at yet another classic, witty comment from Bob. Robert Osborne will of course eventually join our mystery gang.

In the evening I'll walk Aldous/Pollie and he/she will buzz frantically when someone plays Feist's song Honey Honey.

Buzz Kill

To sleep: perchance to dream...

Recently on my right arm, what appears to be a mosquito bite, has mounted in cerise pride. Its on my bi-cep and maybe its because I've never been punctured there by Madame Suck that it feels unlike any mosquito bite I've ever experienced. My right arm actually feels slightly heavy because of the hickey; such a gipsy, that little vampire bug!

Fresh for '88, you suckers!

The bite occurred about two nights ago, yesterday it seems the bite inspired a dream. However, the dream was not about mosquitos, rather bees. I was walking through some weird american town in the middle of Iraq, all these white kids were riding bikes and people were hanging by some small lake that most of the houses faced (I didn't see one Iraqi yet I knew I was in Iraq). I wanted to go by the lake but I knew I would stand out and garner looks and an undesired variety of attention, so I walk around instead, behind the houses. There was an empty street with lawns and driveways and at this point I was wearing a book bag (relevant?). As I passed a tree I saw that I had knocked down some bees. Now I didn't slap them to the ground or accidentally bump over a beehive, they were floating about and when I walked into them they fell to the ground, weak bees huh? Before I could notice what had just happened I walked into another group of bees by another tree and once again, to the ground, I knocked them. To avoid a third time, I took to the street but I began to notice some bees were stuck on me, on my shirt and some had stung me in the very tiny instance we made contact. I kept finding a bee or two on my shirt and trying to get rid of them before they stung. Despite my efforts by the time I got to the end of town I had Popeye arms.

I checked my arms when I woke up, it felt so real, the pain.