Georgie's in Danger of Going Extinct???

Georgie Watchiing his 6

I'm so incredibly Glad it's Monday! As we all know, Monday is the Best Day of the Week beecause, among Other Things, it means we're one Day Closer to the next Weekend. 

You're probably wondering just where the hell I've been this entire Hot Season, but we'll get into that later, probably. 

First, I wanna' say that I was on my way out of Lousy Louie's earlier this Hot Season after enjoying a Highly Delicious and Marginally Nutritious lunch (I had an Order of Chunked and Formed Pollen Steak - Well Done - with a couple of Unusually Refreshing Nectartinis), when I was Accosted by another Bee (a Casual Acquaintance from a Hive on the other side of the Far Meadow). He looked at me and said, "What the hell are you doing here?"

I didn't know what the hell he was Talking about, so I asked, "Why the hell are you asking me what the hell I'm doing here?"
And he said, "You're not even supposed to bee're on the Endangered Species List! You can't bee out running around in Public like this anymore - you have to bee more Careful in Guarding your Well-Beeing!"
So I said, "What the hell do you mean I'm on the Endangered Species List? When the hell did I beecome an Endangered Specie?"
"Hell if I know," he said. Then he said, "Just Watch your Six," and he flew away.

Geeeeeze. All of a sudden, my usual Smug Self-Assuredness was replaced with an Intensely Irrational Feeling that my very Existence might bee in Jeopardy. I went back home to ShoeBox and started digging around in my Closet for my Six. Potato (my Certified Sensory-Impaired Emotional Support/Service LadyBug) came up beehind me and asked, "What the hell are you doing, Georgie?" I told Potato that I was told that I'm on the Endangered Species List as I continued to try to find my Six, and she said, "When the hell did that happen?"

"Hell if I know," I said. "All I know," I said, "is that I might bee Extinct, and that I've been Advised to Watch my Six, so that's what I'm gonna' do, just as soon as I find it."

"No, Georgie," Potato said, "when somebody says, 'Watch your Six', it means that you're supposed to bee attentive to your Surroundings, and bee alert for any Threats that might bee sneaking up Beehind you. It doesn't mean that you literally have a 'Six' - that would bee..."

"Ah, here it is,"I interrupted her, as I found my Six underneath a huge pile of Bee Monthly Magazines, right beehind a Briefcase that Nestor (Fleur de Bee's Associate from France) had asked if he could leave in my Closet for Safe-Keeping and I'd said, "Sure," not knowing he'd put it in a place that would make finding my Six more difficult. So I dragged my Six out and started Watching it.

"I have to ask you again, Georgie: the hell are you doing?" Potato asked me.
"Watching my Six. What the hell do you Think I'm doing?" I asked.
Potato just rolled her eyes, then seemed to find it necessary to try to convince me that when somebody tells somebody else to "Watch their Six", it was a Figure of Speech, that they don't mean that somebody should just sit there, Watching a Six. Of course, she couldn't have been more mistaken. If somebody just happened to have a Six, why the hell wouldn't they Watch it if somebody told me I should? Of course they would. And since I just happened to have a Six, it's Outstandingly Ridiculous for anybody to Think I wouldn't Watch it, isn't it? Of course it is.

So basically, that's what I've been Doing since finding out that I'm on the Endangered Species List: I've mostly been Watching my Six. The last thing I want to do is to bee Extinct.

Potato has tried a few times to get me to do other Stuff since then - she even tried to Remind me that the End of the Hot Season Welcome to the New Cool Season Honey Ball is coming up, and that I should not only go to that, but that I should ask my Girlfriend, ButterCup, to go with me. She also said that I should rent a Tuxedo for the Event beefore they're all gone. I asked Potato if she thought it would bee okay if I brought my Six with us to the HoneyBall. "Why the hell would you want to do that?" she asked me. "Of course it wouldn't bee okay. Two's Company, Three's a Crowd," she said. "Just leave your Six at home. And don't worry - while you're at the HoneyBall with ButterCup, I'll Watch it for you if you want me to."

"You'd do that?" I asked her.

"Of course I would," Potato answered. "What the hell do you think my job as your Emotional Support/Service LadyBug is? I'm not here just to listen to your insufferable nightly Bitch and Moan Sessions, Georgie. I'm here to make sure you're Okay. So don't worry - I've got your Six."

"You've got my Six?" I asked her.

"Yes, I do," she told me.

"Okay, but you'll give it back, right?" l had to know.

"What?" Potato asked.

"You'll give me my Six back after I get back from the HoneyBall?"

"Of course I'll give it back, and you can Watch it all you want to. I'll even help you Watch it if you want me to," she said.

I still felt uncertain about leaving my Six at home with Potato to Watch, but she was probably right about leaving it at Home, even though she was Completely Wrong about one thing: adding a Six to Two (ButterCup and me) doesn't make Three or a Crowd. It makes Eight. But whatever. It's amazingly Fortunate that Potato is my Certified Emotional Support/Service LadyBug, and not my Math Tutor. As we can all see, she's lousy at Math.

"Fine," I said. 

So now I have to fly over to ButterCup's Place to invite her to the HoneyBall, then I have to go Rent a Tuxedo. Hopefully Franknbee's Formal Attire and Overstock Shoe Mart will have the same Tuxedo I Rented last time I had to go to whatever the hell it was I had to wear a Tuxedo to.  

It's been awhile. 

So I'm gonna go do that.


Fleur de Bee has Arrived...with an Associate


So you probably already know that Fleur de Bee (French
Counter-Espionage Agent) arrived here several days ago, and you probably also remember that Potato and I had cleaned up the Extra Bedroom in the ShoeBox so she could stay here, with us, during her Short Visit.

As it turns out, she had other plans. And as it turns out, Fleur wasn’t planning just a Short Visit. When we went to meet her at the WTF Airlines Baggage Claim, it was easy to see that she packed for an Extended Stay - and, as it turns out, she wasn’t Alone when she got here. She brought a Friend - or, who, as I found out later, was a fellow Agent who came here to work on a Highly Confidential UnderCover Operation involving an Investigation into some Questionable Dealings in the International Nectar Market involving some Foul Play by the Snark Brothers which he told me to say Nothing about to Anybody, so I won’t).

As we were Dealing with all their Luggage, I extended the Invitation to Fleur - and her Associate - to stay in our Extra Bedroom during their Visit.

“Oh Zank you zo much, Georgie, Mon Cher. Zat is zo Kind of you, but ve do not vant to Intrude,” Fleur said in that Cute little French Buzz of hers. “For me, zis iz a Buzziness Trip, zo ve can Deduct ze Expense of all zis, but again, zank you anyway, Georgie.”

“Fine,” I said. I tried my best to Hide my Disappointment.

Then she said, “But beefore my Associate and I Check In to ze Luxury Suite at ze Five Seasons Hotel, I must Introduce you to my Associate.”

That’s when another Bee who looked like just about every other Bee anybody’s ever seen suddenly appeared. He was carrying a Briefcase, but set it down while he stuck out his Wing and said, “Bon Jour. I am pleased to bee meeting you. My name ez Francois Nestoreau LaFete - but my friends just call me Nestor.”

I shook his Wing and told him it was nice to meet him, mostly. Since I didn’t know at the time that he was actually an Agent working under an Assumed Identity, I asked him why the hell he’d come along with Fleur and messed up the Visit we’d planned to enjoy with her.

“Oh, Oui, of course you haf ze Curiosity about me,” he said. “Quite zimply I am ze Buzzinessbee here to meet wis ze Suppliers for my Company in Nice,” he said.

“Oh, that’s Nice,” I said.

“No,” he said, “Nice.”

“Whatever,” I said. (As I found out later, it was all a lie anyway, so it didn’t matter.) “So what Buzziness are you in?” I had to know.

“Nectar,” Nestor said (which also turned out to bee a Lie). “I am here to Negotiate a Contract wis a Group of Investors beefore I must zen Return to Nice.”

“Nice,” I said.

“No, Nice,” he said.

“Whatever,” I said (the Language Barrier was really beeginning to get on my Nerves).

Anyway, Fleur collected all her Luggage, and she and Nestor started to leave to Check In to their All-Expenses-Paid Luxury Suite at the Five Seasons. Beefore they left, though, I told them I’d like to take them both to Lousy Louie’s (who I mentioned was my Illegitimate Nephew, Kevin’s, Estranged Sister and my Alleged Niece, Felonie Snark’s place) for some Nectar Fizzes and a Large Order of Honey-Glazed Pollen Puffs - if their Schedule allowed.

“Zank you for ze Invitation. Zat would bee zo Nice,” Nestor said, “and perhaps we could meet your Niece.”

“I suppose,” I said, though at the time, I didn’t know why Nestor would find it so Nice to meet my Alleged Niece.

It was about Three Days Later that Fleur and Nestor finally accepted my Invitation to meet at Lousy Louie’s. That’s when I started finding out more about what the hell Nestor and Fleur were really up to…which I’ll tell you about later, beecause right now, I gotta go find a Bathroom.


Georgie's Dealing with some Unwanted Visitors...


Remember this guy? Well you won't beelieve this, but for some reason he decided to Invite himself and about Two Dozen of his Closest Friends to Hang Out at, around, and on my ShoeBox. It's been beeyond Annoying. I'll tell you right now: the last thing I need is a whole bunch of House Flies bugging me, especially now that I heard that Fleur de Bee (who, as we all know is still Employed by a Special Counter-Espionage Unit in Paris, France) is planning to come visit. I can't wait. 

After I heard that Exciting News, I told Potato that we needed to start really Cleaning Up this ShoeBox just in case Fleur needed somewhere to Stay while she's visiting. I know she usually stays with my Girlfriend, ButterCup, but I'm hoping that maybee she might consider staying with Potato and me this time. We've got a Spare Bedroom, after all.  But I can tell you right now - that's not gonna happen with all these House Flies Hanging Around. I already know that Fleur detests House Flies. She finds them not only Exceedingly Unsanitary, but also Highly Surly. I think we all do, probably.

Anyway, I've been told that, depending on her Work Load, Fleur is planning to Arrive here sometime beetween now and the Middle of the Hot Season, which is good beecause it gives Potato and me a lot of Wiggle Room to finish cleaning this place up, and to get rid of all these House Flies.

Quite frankly, I don't remember Issuing an Invitation to just Hang Out  to that House Fly I ran into awhile ago. For him to just Show Up like that and start Hanging Out with all his Unsanity and Surly Friends is Highly Rude. Seriously now. Who does that? (Okay fine. My Bee Friends and I do that sometimes, but I don't think we're Unsanitary and we're most certainly not Surly, at least I'm not, mostly, ...and okay, yeah, maybee some Bees are a bit Surly, but that shouldn't make anybody Dislike our Species the way we all Dislike House Flies, should it? No, I don't think so, either. I mean House Flies are Intensely Dislikable... I don't know what they make, but it sure the hell isn't Honey. We make Honey - and who doesn't like Honey? No, really... who doesn't like Honey? I'd like to know.) 

So today, and for ever how long it takes, I'm gonna spend my Preciously Valuable Time finishing up the Cleaning Job on my ShoeBox, and trying to get rid of these House Flies. They’re Insufferable.

I think I'm also probably going to ask those Roly-Poly Bugs who are still living underneath my ShoeBox to please leave and go find some rock or something to crawl under. I'm sure they'd bee much happier not having to bee Downstairs Neighbours to Potato and me (we play our Music very loud, you know...we find it Soothing).

So I'm gonna go do that.


Georgie's Birthday Arrives...and the New Hot Season Beegins...


As some of you possibly might know or not, it was my Birthday the other day. Not that I’m counting, but in Human Years, I’m 47 Years Old. Somebody asked me what that was in Bee Years; of course, since it was my Birthday, I totally wasn’t in the Mood to do Math, so I asked my Illegitimate Nephew, Kevin, to figure that out for me. Just this morning, he Informed me that I am approximately 407.33302 Years Old in Bee Years. Geeeeeze.

I haft’a say that even though I might not feel as Young and Enthusiastic as I did the week I was born, it seems to me that Kevin needs to check his Math. I think he Over-Calculated on this one.


By the time my Birthday showed up, all those Heavy Storms we had every day during the Warm Season finally stopped, and I was finally able to get the hell out of my Shoebox where I’d been stuck with Potato (my Sensory-Impaired Certified Emotional Support/Service LadyBug). (Beecause of the Weather, she and I spent the entire time either Streaming all of our Stories on BeeFlix - usually more than once - or having Deep and Meaningful Conversations about how much more Dangerous and Often Crazy the World Outside is these days and how we feel about it. As Interesting as that was, we’d pretty much run out of Conversation, so for sure I needed to grab some Fresh Air.)

Of course, before I left, I asked Potato if she wanted to come with me, but she just said, “No, but thank you. I’m going to just stay here and take a nap. But before you go,” she said, “I have a Birthday Surprise for you which I very much hope you like.” Then she gave me a Huge Box which she had Festively Wrapped in a Non-Recyclable Plastic MostlySafeWay Bag. Much to my Surprise, the Box contained the complete, Unabridged 12-Volume, Fake-Vinyl-Bound Set of the “Partially Annotated Encyclopaedia of Industrial Applications of Unprocessed Bees Wax, Second Edition” translated into Broken English from the Original French Edition.

I don’t know how she Knew I’d always Wanted that, but I guess that’s one of the things that makes her so Special.

Anyway, I thanked her, she said, “You’re Welcome”, then I left.

So after I spent some time sampling some Nectar from the Healthy Crop of Flowers that were blooming, I decided to go by Great Grandma Gee Gee’s BootBox and Cookie Factory to see how she was doing. When I got there she said, “Oh my, I heard that today is someone’s Special Day!”

“Really?” I said, “Whose?”

She gave me a Funny Look and said, “Why YOURS, of course, dear. And in honour of your Special Day, I have a case of some of my Freshly-Baked Royal HoneyChew Krisp™ Cookies for you, which you can either eat here, or take with you.”

Of course I decided to eat them there (it’s hard to fly when you’re carrying a bunch of Stuff). They were Delicious.

After I finished up all the Cookies, I thanked Gee Gee, and decided to make my way over to the Hive. I thought maybee somebody there might be throwing me a Surprise Birthday Party for me. Nobody was. In fact, Nobody was even there, so I figured everybody was either out Working in the Far Meadow, or they had all gone to what I hoped was a Surprise Birthday Lunch at Lousy Louie’s (it was right around Lunchtime… in case you didn’t know it, Lousy Louie’s has a great Lunch Special - one free order of Pollen Puffs, one Pollen Salad Sandwich, and one Non-Fermented Nectar Fizz, all for just a Quarter Pound of Honey - and if it’s your Birthday, you get the Special for Half-Off).

Of course, nobody was at Louie’s, either, and there weren’t any Parties going on. After eating all those Cookies, I skipped the Birthday Lunch Special and just ordered a Nectar Fizz - Fermented - then I left, and headed toward the Near Meadow to see what might bee going on.

When I got to the Near Meadow, the only thing I saw Going On was that there was a House Fly I didn’t recognise who was buzzy working on what was left of an Od, Rancid, Moldy Waffle…it looked Highly Unappealing, but the Fly seemed to bee Enjoying himself. I thought I’d just stop for a minute or two and visit with him.

“Hello,” I said. “I’m Georgie Bee, and today is my Birthday.”

“How Special for you,” the Fly said in what kind of sounded to me like a Sarcastic Tone.

“Yes, it is,” I agreed with him. “You haven’t heard of any Surprise Birthday Parties for me somewhere around here, have you?” I had to know.

“You’re kidding, right?” the Fly asked me.

“No, not at all, I was just thinking that…”

“Do you honestly beelieve that if there was a Party going on anywhere around here that I’d bee Invited?” he asked.

“Well, I…” he Interrupted me again.

“No. Anybody that knows Anything about House Flies knows that we’re Never Invited to Parties. Or Barbecues. Or Picnics. Or Concerts in the Park. Or even inside anybody’s House, even though we’re called House Flies - which never made sense to me, but oh well. So no,” he said.

Then he said, “If there were any Parties around here, don’t you think I’d already know about it?”

“Well, I…” I started to say, but it turned out he wasn’t done talking.

“ … and don’t you think I’d bee at that Party enjoying myself with some fresh HoneyCakes instead of Here, trying to choke down what’s left of this Rancid, Moldy Waffle? Do you, bee?”

“I suppose that…” I wanted to answer his question.

“Don’t bother answering. I’d bee at the Party. But in the meantime, I think I’ve spent quite enough time trying to Explain things, bee, and if you’ll excuse me, I want to get back to this Waffle. I would advise you Turn Away. What I’m about to do isn’t Pretty,” he said.

So I Turned Away.

There was part of me that Seriously Considered sticking around and following that House Fly just in case he found out about a Surprise Birthday Party for me, but it was getting Late, so I left him to his Waffle and flew back to my ShoeBox, where Potato was waiting for me.

“Did you have a nice Outing?” she asked.

“Not really,” I told her. “It seems I’m not getting a Surprise Birthday Party this year, which I find Highly Disappointing.”

“Would you like to Talk about it?” Potato asked.

So we did that.

By the time we were done, she had me feeling Significantly Better about beeing Stiffed on the whole Surprise Birthday Party thing. She helped me Understand that, when bees get Older - like me - Surprise Birthday Parties were usually reserved for Even-Numbered Birthdays. She told me that it was her Opinion that the next time I get a Surprise Birthday Party, it would bee when I turn 50 (in Human Years). “Fine,” I said. “I suppose I can wait the 1,095 Days ’til then.”

“That’s my Bee,” Potato said. “In the meantime, I found a new, 87-part Series that’s Streaming on BeeFlix. It’s about a Butterfly that gets tangled up in a web of its own Lies.”

“That sounds interesting,” I said. “I suppose we could do that while we wait for the Hot Season to Officially Beegin.”

So for the next, ten days, Potato and I Beeinged all 87 Episodes of, “Monarch: A Butterfly’s Story”. (If you haven’t watched that yet, I Highly Recommend it.) By the time we finished the day beefore yesterday, the Warm Season was over.

So now, it’s already Day Two of the New Hot Season.

I hope it’s a good one, without too many House Flies.


Georgie's Highly Confused...


Have you ever had one of those Days when it seems like you find out that pretty much everything you’ve ever Beelieved or Thought was definitely probably True might not actually bee True, after all? Isn’t that annoying?

I asked, beecause just the other day, I was sitting there with Potato, streaming an Encore Re-Run of that George Clooney Movie, “Gravity”. If you’ve never seen it, you should, even though (and SPOILER ALERT…) there’s a part in there when George Clooney floats off into Space and we never actually see him again. It’s clear that George Clooney died in the Cold, Lonely Vacuum of Space - which I have always thought was a real shame beecause I often sometimes usually liked him as an actor, mostly, so it was beeyond Sad that he died like that, ya’ know?

Of course, after the Movie was over, I told Potato that I thought the Producers and Director were completely Negligent to have filmed in Outer Space without the Necessary Safety Precautions beeing taken, and she said, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how sad it was that George Clooney Died in that Movie, and that the Producers and Director should have…” .

“I know what you said,” she said, “I can read your Mouthparts just fine. What I’m asking is: what in the hell are you talking about? You don’t really think that George Clooney actually Died in that Movie, do you?”

“Well, it’s pretty clear that the Safety Harness they were using while they were filming in Outer Space didn’t hold very well, so when he…” .

“Let me just stop you there,” she stopped me there. “First, they weren’t in Outer Space when they Filmed that Movie.”

“But no, they were floating around in…”. I started to say.

“Let me finish,” she said. “Those were Special Effects, Georgie. George Clooney was not actually in Outer Space, and he didn’t actually Die in that Movie. It was all Make-Beelieve.”

“Really?” I asked her.

“Yes, really,” she said.

Then she said, “Georgie, ever since you Emerged from your Persistent Coma, your Thinking has been a bit Scrambled. And I don’t think that Or-Elsing the Snarks gave you helped the Situation at all, so I’m going to suggest that you and I consider investing some Quality Time in helping you get past some of your obvious Confusion. We need to Schedule some Emotional Support Sessions where you and I can just sit and Talk. As your Sensory-Impaired Certified Emotional Support/Service LadyBug - and your Friend - that’s what I’m here for: to help you.”

“Help me with what?” I asked her. “I’m Confused.”

“Exactly,” she said, which Confused me even more, then she said, “but let’s not have a Session right now. After all the Binge-Watching you and I have been doing for the past Week, I’m feeling totally Baked, sorry to say.”

“You’re Baked, Potato?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “So we’ll Visit later. I’m no good to anybody if I’m Exhausted, which I am, so I’m going to go take a very long Nap now. We’ll talk after I wake up.”

“Fine,” I said, then she did that, and that’s what we’re gonna do.

Until then, I think I should go stream “Gravity” again, just to see if Potato is beeing Honest with me about all this. I hope she is… I wouldn’t like to keep thinking that George Clooney actually Died for our Entertainment, ya’ know?
So I’m gonna go do that.


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