6/1/10

PUNK-ASS BEES, ANDY KOPPEL

Ted Koppel and some bitch-ass bees


WAS RETURNING FROM HABIB ROW THIS MORNING HOLDING toilet paper, toothpaste, a cup of coffee, a bunch of parsley (meaning one orderly bunch, not a whole lot of it) and my camera when a beehive fell out of the tree towering over Cafe Brasil, sending bees swarming across the area furiously. Actually, they didn't swarm at all, and surely did nothing furiously; several buzzed around dazedly while the rest laid where they landed doing a whole lot of nothing while cars drove over them. I was surprised at their glaring lack of swarming. For shame, animal kingdom. Of course, a passing homeless woman cussed the bees out. At least some of us haven't lost our sense of purpose. The Bangladeshi (Pakistani) guy at the 88-cent store where not a damn thing is 88 cents asked me what the camera's for, so he may be reading the site soon. Just remember, I love you and your store and it's all a joke. Yokes!

In other news, Ted Koppel's 42-year-old son Andy died yesterday from drinking whisky all day on an empty stomach? If this is true, I'm fucked. Drinking whisky on an empty stomach is one of my favorite things to do in this and many other worlds. I believe strongly in separating church and state. Food has no place in a drunken bender, unless you're about to pass out and you're trying to make a week out of it. My fingers are crossed for the appearance of hard drugs in the toxicology reports. And you know they're coming. Sorry Ted.


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