GANGSTA BEES AND BEDSORES

Gangsta Bee

I was going to write an intro for this post, but I think this post speaks for itself and needs no preface. Those people who have read my blog in the past will know to wade through the initial bullshit to come to an understanding regarding the purpose of my post. When two old friends chat online (this friendship I refer to goes back 50+ years), they don't need to make any sense. In fact, they rarely make any sense and that's the beauty of their *symbiotic relationship*.  And because I'm such a sweetheart, I'll even post the definition of a symbiotic relationship for those who don't know what it is right off the top of their head. Feel honored that I share with you the beast that tickles my fancy. It's called chain yanking and witty banter! It doesn't get any better than that in my book!

Symbiotic relationships are a special type of interaction between species. Sometimes beneficial, sometimes harmful, these relationships are essential to many organisms and ecosystems, and they provide a balance that can only be achieved by working together.

The cast of characters:
J - a close female friend and partner in crime since my unruly days of yesteryear
M - my BFF and a person who is all the things I'm not and that's why we gel
E - some random dude that's a friend of J
K - yours truly

"J", started my engine by posting the following video on her Facebook page with her sincere commentary stating that WE ARE THE WORST SPECIES ON THE PLANET!!!! (yes, it was in caps so it jumped out and screamed at me to yank her chain a little.) "E" who enters into the mix towards the end of the chat is "J's" Facebook sparring partner. Since they became Facebook friends, I don't think they've ever agreed on anything. Another symbiotic relationship in the making, but not nearly as deeply rooted as mine is with "J."

K: Worse than cockroaches or bed bugs?

J:  much worse, look at that disgusting

K: Hey, I'm a gangsta bee so my species is okay 🐝🐝 Look, there you are with me. We're just buzzing around and doing gangsta bee stuff.

J: K,  you're nuts! lol

K: J, Did you leave off "piece of shit" from your previous statement?

J: ya, I guess I did. You want me to add it now?

K:  Some things never change. Crazy as a loon and I don't care what anyone thinks of me. Hey, if M, drops by here tell her you haven't seen me but you heard me buzzing.

K: J, please leave it as is

J: K, yes ma’am...I can do that buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

K: Hey, is it okay if I tell people you said I'm worse than a cockroach or a bedbug?

J: I’d be honored...

K: I'm a free to be me GANGSTA BEE 🐝

J:  whatever floats your boat. lol

K: J, bees don't have boats, they have hives

J:  well, then whatever floats your hive

K: I got honey in my hive

J: no comment

K: I got honey in my hive and it's good to be alive

K: Gangsta bees rhyme like a dime in a crime

K: And what is the crime?

J: littering

K: swarming, swarming, global warming

J:  that too. lol

K: Litter is for quitters

K: And to think I'm like this naturally. That’s scary!

J: K, that's right, spread the word as you buzz along

K: Now, buzz off, right?

J: K, I know, but if anyone can spread the word, it's you

J:  But please spread it in a nice way

K: I'll spread my honey on my buns because honeybuns are fun, fun, fun…

J:  that explains it.

K: I think I'll copy and paste this masterpiece to my blog

J:  I think you should and give me ample prompts

K: This lovely chat we've had and a picture of the decubitus on my ass should keep everyone happy for a while. And of course, I’ll give credit where credit is due.

J:  The what on your ass!!??

K: Since it's glaringly apparent that you don't know how to use Google...a bed sore, an open ulcer on my arse... want to see?

J: naw, I’ll pass. Hope it's better soon

K: and I'm losing my hair, but it's all good because gangsta bees don't need no hair.

K: Losing the hair on my head...not on my ass

J:  I can relate to that one. Nope, gangsta bees don't need no stinking hair

K: I had debated posting the pic for my profile pic on Facebook, but the verdict is still out on that one

K: What's next? Shall we talk about our bowel movements or the virtues of menopause?

J:  Do what makes you happy!

J: Only if you make me talk about that crap (pun intended)

K: Did you know years ago I posted my colonoscopy pictures on Facebook?

J:  cool...bet you got a lot of comments

K: I sure did...it would have freaked people out if I posted my prostate pics

J:  ah, I didn't think women have a prostate

K: Prostate? Fooled you! Gangsta bees come well equipped, so when people tell me to go fuck myself, I can do exactly that. No problemo!

J:  wow, glad I’m not a gangsta bee

K: That's what BOB is for? Who's BOB, right?

K: BOB is not a bee, but BOB buzzes like a bashful bee. BOB is a battery-operated buddy BTW

J:  The honey's gone to your head

K: Uh oh! We have company! I had better behave myself (you know how well that usually works out)

E: Yea, it was all good until we discovered words like: disposable, no deposit/no return, plastic, Styrofoam, bic lighters, disposable bags, razors, diapers, throw it away not caring where it goes...

K: What about words like GANGSTA BEES?

K: Hi Ed!

K: Hey Ed, J said I'm worse than a cockroach or a bedbug. I don't think she loves me anymore.

J: K, you tell him! lol

K: What am I gonna do? I guess I'll retreat to my hive and lick my wounds.

J: K, good luck with that. I can't stretch my neck far enough to do that

K:  I don't think Ed needs to be told anything by me...you seem to have that nicely covered.

K:  I said lick my wounds, not lick my ass!

J: isn't that where your wound is?

K: They say a picture a picture is worth a thousand words. Okay, I'm off to the next hive now. You two play nicely or else, I'll be back, and you know what that means! Shock collars for everyone!

J:  [sigh]...have fun

K: Oh J, you weren't supposed to tell him where my wound is. Now, I'm embarrassed. Instead of being yellow and black like a good gangsta bee, I'm red and black. I’m a mess!

K: Good night  ❤️

J: K, red and black looks good on ya 😈

K: 🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝

I bet you thought you were viewing the
surface of the moon. Well folks,
this is my "moon" and  it has Hairy Ass Rot!

My Gangsta Bees look like fucking termites. Oh well! It's the thought that counts and on that note as promised threatened, here's a picture of my lovely ass rot! 

Wow! I have hair on my ass! Where the hell did that come from? I guess that's what old women are suppossed to do. [They don't hand out booklets about the finer points of growing old, so I'm pretty clueless as what to expect] As our locks grow thin, hair starts to sprout everywhere it shouldn't...faces and asses are a favorite spot. How charming is that picture? 

Tell me, how is one supposed to age gracefully when you have hairy ass rot going on? I can hardly wait for the next thing to short circuit or fall apart. Perhaps my mind will go next and then I simply wont care what I look like or how I feel.