In my spare time I like to improve my yodeling.
First a few personal facts regarding the differences between bees and calligraphy:
- I have never been stung in the face by calligraphy.
- I have never gotten a D on an art project written in bee.
Good things about bees:
- If you don’t happen to have any Crazy Stinging Amazonian Bastard Ants, Africanized killers bees will work in a pinch.
- It is hysterical when a bee stings a mime.
- Pollination. Bees pollinate a vast array of plants, helping to propagate many types of fruits and flowers. I’m also pretty sure Donald Trump’s hair is some sort of hive.
- They make honey, that sweet nectar byproduct without which Pooh bear would have never gotten his head caught in a honey pot, in that adorable image by A. A. Milne. If it weren’t for that image, I’d have nothing tattooed to my left butt cheek.
Good things about calligraphy:
- Because of calligraphy, nib manufacturing is still a thriving business in Bangladeshi sweat shops.
- Without calligraphy wedding invitations would have to be written in silly fonts.
- Anything written in calligraphy looks super classy; like William Shakespeare threw up on a piece of paper. (It’s how the entire first act of Much Ado About Nothing was written.)
Super classy. Created by William Shakespeare after a night of pounding tequila shots.
Note: This blog has often been referred to as the Shakespeare of humor blogs–sometimes by poet laureates, occasionally by scholars, but mostly by people when I lie about things other people have said. I’ve also won the Pulitzer Prize–twice.
Bad things about bees:
They sting you in the face.
You might be a small child, blissfully playing in your grandmother’s backyard. Behaving in a manner so innocent, its very nature demands the use of the word angelic.
You might have that childhood bliss shattered in a moment when a bee stings you in the face.
You might retreat into your grandmother’s house in a state of distress because a bee has just stung you in the face.
Instead of receiving the consoling you need, your aunt–who is evil–snidely tells you, “bees only sting you if you bother them.”
Years later you have your revenge at a family picnic when your aunt is stung by a bee. You confidently inform her, “bees only sting fat bitchy women.” She is not amused.
Note: The Stephen King classic, Cujo, was based on my aunt. While she’s not as hairy as the titular character, she does drool considerably more. You might think that’s mean, but you don’t know her.
Bad things about calligraphy:
They make you learn it in Art class.
When I was in school we didn’t get to use the calligraphy pens with the replaceable ink cartridges; we had to use the old-style calligraphy pens that you had to dip in ink wells. This was problematic.
I tended to get ink blots on my assignment, which hurt the final grade. I also got ink on my desk, on my hands, on my face, on my clothes and weirdly on my left butt cheek. (It was a precursor to the Winnie the Pooh tattoo.)
It was also problematic for the girl in the desk in front of me.
It wasn’t that she had difficulty containing her ink use; it was that my difficulty in containing my ink use, on one occasion spread to her flaxen blonde hair.
Which then became problematic for me, in a loud and somewhat abusive tone.
I threw around more ink than a pissed off octopus.
In conclusion, I want to thank Becky for not using my suggestion of bees and calligraphy; it has allowed me to share more embarrassing moments from my past.
Nantucket. The small island off the coast of Massachusetts is Nantucket. Evidently there once was a man from there.
Man, this calligraphy is difficult.