Bee-Positive

When I got home I stopped to say hello to the bees and I discovered that they had left. This is very disheartening.

> “We” > Account based in South Asia

@krus_chiki The width of a Roman cart will echo through time forevermore

“What’s more american than living in a shipping container”

Our Hyperborean Heavenly Warrior ancestors burned the decadent Atlantean Empire from orbit in the Elder Dryas Bombardment event for a good reason.

Nightmarish disasters will visit you constantly, and you will often be dealing with multiple crises at a time. You can take it one of two ways.

Quesadillas for lunch. Ham and cheese, btw

“I put on my Sandisk trenchcoat, shoved my cyberdeck in my pocket and left the digicafé. The glistening neon lights on the street promised something Chinese. But the air was full of viruses...”

A morning groundhog

We were explicitly told that Star Trek Academy wasn’t for us. And it wasn’t. Don’t blame the failure on the team you threw out of the stadium before the game started.

Faltering Chinese dynasties had a recurring problem with standing armies switching over to banditry because looting civilians was easier than fighting actual rebels and invaders. This feels a lot like that.

My grandfather was in the Skull & Bones Society at Yale, my dad’s a Mass. elected official who’s served 5 terms with no general election or primary challenge, and my mom was on the board of every private school I attended. Allow me to walk you through how democracy…

2,000 years ago Romans would have these orgies where they would drink so much they’d puke in vases. Now we argue with strangers on the Internet. AND WE CALL THIS PROGRESS?!?!?!?

I do enjoy that the Anglo cultural norm of greeting people with “how are you” and both inevitably responding “good” even if they’re doing poorly is essentially just a quick ritual to establish the person has their shit together enough to not let their personal problems bother you

Look, I didn’t start the “alpine divorce” epidemic. I’m just a simple outdoorsman who keeps accidentally losing my girlfriends in the wilderness like a forgetful golden retriever with commitment issues. The latest one? Brittany. Sweet girl. We were hiking when she made the fatal mistake of saying my favorite hot sauce was “mid.” Mid. On a mountain. At 9,000 feet. I was so emotionally devastated that I wandered back to the trailhead. Alone. For some reason she didn’t follow. By sunset the search and rescue team found her living her best life as a cryptid. She had fashioned a crown out of pine cones and her own sports bra, painted her entire body with crushed wild berries and what I can only assume was rage, and was riding a very confused mountain lion like it was a mechanical bull at a dive bar. When the rangers tried to approach, she screamed “THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU'RE HOT SAUCE IS MID!” and launched the mountain lion at them like a furry missile. The lion, clearly also done with her nonsense, immediately yeeted itself off a 300-foot cliff just to escape. They still haven’t caught her. Last sighting she was teaching a pack of marmots synchronized interpretive dance while wearing nothing but hiking boots and pure unfiltered chaos. And honestly? I get it. The mountains just hit different when you’re single. I’m now on girlfriend number seventeen. Number twelve almost made it back to the car, but I hit the gas the second I saw her little ponytail bobbing up the trail like an angry determined Pokémon. She’s still out there somewhere, probably unionizing the squirrels against toxic masculinity. The rangers have started calling me “The Yeeter.” They don’t even bother asking for descriptions anymore. They just sigh and say, “Which one this time? The one who argued about pineapple, the one who said your playlist was mid, or the one who corrected your knot-tying technique?” Me? I just smile, shrug, and ask if they’ve seen my new hiking partner. She’s really into hot sauce. And silence. The mountains don’t judge. They just provide the perfect drop off point.

I was applying for Australian citizenship and the interviewer asked, "Do you have a criminal record?" I said, "No. Is that still required?"

submission by anonymous

@poutineexpert It fits the concept of poutine. Of course, I think a Frito chili pie fits the concept of poutine also.

@Unlicensed_Bee I’d try this. But it isn’t poutine.

Cabbage is roasted, time to assemble dinner

@St_Rev Make Martyrs Great Again

One assumes IEDs, suicide vests and polonium are still acceptable.

Historically accurate Roman marching music.

Daily reminder: They want to kill you.