By being prepared to trach you, did he mean he had a ballpoint pen, or something?
1: He hadn't acquired any surgical tools yet, improvised or otherwise, but he was, I gathered, aware of what he would need to do if the situation worsened.
I've heard of honeyed voices, Stanley, but that's ridiculous.
Something like that happened to me about 15 years ago. A bee was apparently trying to get a drink out of the same coke can that I was drinking.
Painful, and scary, and weird -- but also kind of funny.
He (the med student) was probably just hitting on you. He may not even have been a real med student. In fact, he may have told the bee to fly into your throat as a way to meet you. Kind of like that movie A Boy and His Dog.
Were you making out with the bee when this happened?
Funny, you didn't look black at the meet-up, Stanley.
The bees are just trying to get away before the Daleks arrive.
You probably have a black hole in your throat.
You probably have a black hole in your throat.
Racist.
I once, while tripping, watched a film in which a bee flew into someone's mouth and stung him to death (the character was allergic). It was just a random Saturday afternoon movie on some random UHF channel and ker-blam, there's a bee in the guy's mouth and he's dead. The friend with whom I was watching it and I had to spend a lot of time making sure we had really just seen that. This was long before the advent of TiVo and so I've never really been sure to this day, much as I am uncertain of Stanley's story in the absence of a first-hand, sober observation of it.
Of course you realize that because of colony collapse disorder, your life is worth less than the bee's. Thanks a bunch, Stanley.
I've heard of people going to lengths for the bee-stung–lips look, but this is a little bit ridiculous, Stanley.
10: So you're saying you want Stanley to repeat the story so you can make sure you really just read it?
11: Can someone explain the birds and the bees (with special attention to the infertile haploid worker bit) to Stras?
The bee probably thought Stanley's mouth was an unusually large and deranged flower. You should really take the sting as a compliment.
14: EVERY BEE COUNTS, DAMMIT.
One time I got a big fly in my mouth, and somehow it seemed like it would be really uncool to make a fly-spitting-out scene in front of the people I was with, so I instantly made the decision to swallow it. But then I was all confused about why I had just done that, and so I said to my companions, 'I just swallowed a fly on purpose! I'm not sure why I did that.' Very smooth.
One time a small bird sort of flew into my face and then away, and I made the instant decision to sort of jump up and swat at it, but only halfheartedly, because I realized mid-jump that this makes me an ogre and people were staring.
made the decision to swallow it
I initially thought the bee made it down to my stomach and was really nervous about getting stung there. Oh, and all my co-workers are making me paranoid with the suggestion that the bee's stinger could be stuck in my throat still.
17: And then there was the time that Blume swallowed that spider. She swallowed the spider to catch the fly. She's not sure why she swallowed that fly. Perhaps she'll die.
Stras reminds me that I did feel guilty about the death of the bee.
I guess that was the traumatic part I blocked out.
stras's three funniest comments ever are all in this thread.
He (the med student) was probably just hitting on you. He may not even have been a real med student. In fact, he may have told the bee to fly into your throat as a way to meet you. Kind of like that movie A Boy and His Dog.
"I can buzz better, stanley, when your man is gone."
Poor vision led me to believe for some time that Amber had written 18. Much improved over reality.
I stepped on a groundhog once. It was asleep. but I dodn't swallow it.
Ricky Jay can perform trachs with a piece of straw, from fifty feet away.
That bee didn't die Stanley, she passed over into FREEDOM!
A bee was apparently trying to get a drink out of the same coke can that I was drinking.
I have a vague memory of being warned about this as a kid, as part of some kind of official general-safety lecture. "Cover your open soda cans when you're outside, kids. You never know what might get in when you least expect it."
16: "Every bee is sacred, every bee is great..."
but I dodn't swallow it.
Here we witness a rare conflation of "oughtn't" and "dassent".
she passed over into FREEDOM!
Ah, the sweet release of being hocked-up and stepped-on. (A friend did the stepping. I was busy vomiting into the nearby lake.)
Because of stuff like the disappearing bees, I don't have it in me to kill bugs much anymore. I was standing around outside work the other day and there were these two bugs having sex on a shop sign, and Old Stras would've squished them in a fit of nihilistic pique, but New Stras was just all, "Make your buggy love, little bug friends! Make your buggy love forever!"
28: There's a bit about that in Dennis Smith's Report from Engine Co. 82 about that, except with cockroaches. It's probably 25 years since I've read it, but the thought of it just now has put me off lunch.
13: Yes. My refresh button is made of lies.
Incidentally, Stanley, I suspect that you hawked up the bee. If you did, in fact, hock it, I hope you got good money for it.
You don't know how lucky you are, Stanley.
WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A REGULAR BEE AND AN AFRICANIZED BEE?
THE SIZE OF THEIR COCKS!
Relatively few of those hits seem to describe fatal tracheotomies, Sifu.
I'll need to see some documentation on 36.
When Sir Kraab and I were taking those zany zany photos at our friends' wedding, we spied a large grasshopper resting midway up a door jamb, about chest height.
I thought it might be funny for Kraab to snap a picture of me just about to eat the grasshopper, but when I bent my head down, maw open, to pose, the grasshopper jumped and landed directly on my lower lip. I could feel it clinging there with its spiky grasshopper legs.
I immediately did this combination of spitting and jerking my head away. The spitting worked, as the big clingy grasshopper flew away, but the jerking my head back caused the back of my head to come into direct and sharp contact with a wrought iron wall lamp. Clang!
Sadly, none of this was caught on film. I have since forgiven Sir Kraab, so everything worked out okay.
hawked up
Is that canonical? I've only ever seen the spelling I used in the post.
40: they mostly describe self-tracheotomies, it's true. Still, I'd say Stanley can count himself lucky he wouldn't have even had to consider a self-tracheotomy.
||
Last night at a Vinny Golia concert I bought a CD, you know, from Vinny. I gave him my money and then walked over to the table and picked it up. But I took the wrong one! I wanted Trignition, with him, Barre Phillips, and Bertram Turetzky, but I mistakenly took Triangulation, with him, George Lewis, and Bertram Turetzky—which I already have! Fuck!
|>
42: that really would have been the picture to put the set over the top.
I've only ever seen the spelling I used in the post.
Wait, now you're claiming to have invented the term?
43: From the OED on the verb 'hawk':
2. trans. To bring up with a strong effort of clearing the throat.
Ah, the sweet release of being hocked-up and stepped-on. (A friend did the stepping. I was busy vomiting into the nearby lake.)
Bees pass over into freedom after they sting anyway, so your friend needn't have done any stepping on. In fact, you should have told your friend to step off, and let that poor bee pass over into freedom in peace, not pieces.
Every Unfogged gathering should feature a reëneactment of 42.
I'm so happy right now, even without the video.
And yet a hawker is one who sells on streetcorners. Either way, Stanley should have received monies.
Ben, you now have a perfect setup for a private meeting with Vinny. A meeting at which he will discover your discerning musical taste, debonaire manner, and effortless bitchery. Soon, you'll get all of his CDs, because you'll be part of his entourage.
Don't screw this up, W-lfs-n.
Even a sharp blow to the head is no excuse for the punnery in 51.
And let's not forget what hocking really is.
Why did your friend step on it once it was safely out of your throat?
It had shown that it was prepared to kill and go free to kill again.
57: Pour encourager les autres.
It would be dangerous to step on it while it was still in Stanley's throat, B.
I'm so happy right now, even without the video.
I'm glad. Sir Kraab's reaction was to call me a sicko.
42: that really would have been the picture to put the set over the top.
Actually there was this other potential picture involving me sitting next to and in the same pose as the site's resident surly tomcat that would have been AWESOME if it had worked out. Unfortunately, the cat failed to cooperate. When I hunkered down next to it, splaying my legs out and bending my head down as if to clean my nether regions (basically like this), it had the nerve to break pose, get up, and walk over demanding to be petted.
We watched it carefully the rest of the evening, hoping it would again assume that pose, but nothing doing.
I was really hoping the linked picture in 62 showed M/tch in the pose.
So I instantly made the decision to swallow it. But then I was all confused about why I had just done that....
I heard the song already.
63, 62: you know, M/tch, if you did pose like that I'm sure somebody could manage the photoshopping for you.
63: I'm wearing a furry suit, heebie.
63: I'm wearing a furry suit, heebie.
And quite excited about it, apparently.
I just did that in case heebie was having the same problem as Robust in 10.
63/64: Are you at work today? You must be hot. And self-conscious.
70: Are you tripping today? You must be unable to count. And self-conscious.
71: Are you narcisstic today? You must not have realized I was talking to Emerson. And myself-consious.
73: are you self-referential today?
Are you lonesome tonight? Is your mouth filled with bees? Shall I come back again? Tell me, dear.
72: You're so vain. You probably think this comment is about you.
78: I thought 76 was about me, but I don't know why you call me Kobe!
I'm wearing a furry suit, heebie.
Quick! Someone give M/tch a tracheotomy!
I don't know why you call me Kobe!
Kobe, or not Kobe: that is the question.
In retrospect, I probably should have said "Kobee".
Because the thread is about bees, see?
Get it??
I do get that, M/tch. I do indeed.
I shall now proceed to stomp him with my foot. Be sure to capture this on film, Kraab.
87: That face is why I linked to the google search results instead of something specific.
The combination of Pokemon and maps of Florida just wasn't funny enough without Ben.
Combee!
Combee-bee, combee-bee, bee-bee come come. Yougot to give meloving and yougot to give mesome.
No foot or leg strikes to the head of a downed opponent, M/tch. Axe kick him in the solar plexus.
Do be a do bee, don't be a Kobe.
91: Is his solar plexus on his thorax, or his abdomen?
My solar plexus is ON THE SURFACE OF THE SUN!
Yougot to give meloving and yougot to give mesome.
What if someone has already given yogurt some loving?
How is it that no one has brought up the baby bumblebee song? Stanley, any child knows you should have squished it between your hands and then licked it off.
Your mommy would have been so proud of you.
I'm bringing up a baby bumblebee! Won't Sir Kraabie be so proud of me! I'm bringing up a baby bumblebee. Oops, she pwned me!
When I used to live in a dormitory, in Germany, I sometimes kept beverages out on the shaded balcony to stay (relatively) cool, as my refrigerator space was limited. On day, I grabbed an already opened Tetra-Pak of apple juice from the balcony and took a swig. In doing so, I inadvertently sucked a yellowjacket into my mouth, which promptly stund me on my tongue and cheek.
I totally freaked, went to my friend's room and asked her to drive me to the emergency room. She calmed me down, insisted that we wait a while, and indeed, I got over it.
So I put the apple juice back in the fridge for safe keeping (I was poor, see). The next day, I grab the same carton of apple juice out of the fridge, thinking "No way could there be TWO bees in that carton of juice, and even if there were, surely the night in the fridge must have killed it."
That's right, you guessed it, I slurped another yellowjacket into my mouth and got stung again.
Because the baby bumblebee song inevitably leads to Little Bunny Foux-Foux.
I DO NOT WANT TO SEE THAT BUNNY PICKING UP THE FIELD MICE AND BOPPING THEM ON THE HEAD!!!
"No way could there be TWO bees in that carton of juice, and even if there were, surely the night in the fridge must have killed it."
You were right, though: there weren't two bees in that carton of juice. There were two wasps.
I still don't get "Kobe!"
What'd the sushi chef say to the bee?
103: Wrong, w-lfs-n. "Yellowjacket" is slang for barbituates, as is "bees" or "Bs". "Getting stung" means getting high.
How is it that no one has brought up the baby bumblebee song?
I am unfamiliar with said tune.
104: What'd the sushi chef say to the bee?
Wha's a bee?
That's right, you guessed it, I slurped another yellowjacket into my mouth and got stung again.
Wow, bugs make for funny stories! The best part is that I wouldn't find these things funny if they were, say, a Youtube of a stranger. But since I know (in some sense) you people, I laugh heartily at your misfortune!
If we bought Ogged another dinner at French Laundry, do you think we could convince him to swallow a bee for hijinks purposes?
when i was a kid in our summer cabin there was a bee hive, right near the door, those bees were just wild bees, not for honey, but they seemed to recognise us and never stung
100: She calmed me down, insisted that we wait a while, and indeed, I got over it.
"See, if you're allergic and going into anaphylactic shock, it will be too late by the time we get there," she calmly explained. "Whereas if you aren't going into shock, it's not an emergency," she went on. "And besides, you'll probably just go and do the same damn fool thing again, anyway", she concluded.
106: Here you go.
Please note that this has wussy verses and is sung all gently and lullaby-y. Imagine it sung by loud kids enjoying being gross and obnoxious. The proper verses are:
I'm bringing home a baby bumblebee.
Won't my mommy be so proud of me?
I'm bringing home a baby bumblebee.
Ouch! It stung me!
I'm squishing up my baby bumblebee.
Won't my mommy be so proud of me?
I'm squishing up my baby bumblebee.
What a mess!
I'm licking off my baby bumblebee.
Won't my mommy be so proud of me?
I'm licking off my baby bumblebee.
Ooh, I feel sick
I'm throwing up my baby bumblebee.
Won't my mommy be so proud of me?
I'm throwing up my baby bumblebee.
What a mess!
Also, the song should be sung to the tune of "Arkansas Traveler". If possible, with the tune emphasized for maximum annoyance.
God, swallowing a bee sounds so much worse than that time (just a couple of weeks ago, actually) when a live beetle got stuck in my hair.
Last summer, up in the wilds of Canada, a spider bit me during my sleep, and in the morning I had an angry red lump on my forearm and my whole arm felt weirdly numb all the way up to my shoulder. My parents wanted me to go to the ER, but by the time I got around to it my arm felt okay, so I didn't bother. My mother killed the spider, and my son still talks of it. He had hoped for a Peter Parker scenario, of course, where I turned into Spiderwoman and started scaling walls and stuff, in which expectation he was sadly disappointed, needless to say, but he was impressed by how his grandmother quite calmly and matter-of-factly dispatched of that spider. Of course, we can't know for certain that the critter my mother killed was in fact the thing that bit me, but that spider looked guilty as hell.
I'm poisoning ants as we speak. They gather up the poison with extreme diligence and bring it to the other ants in their hill. As a slacker I'm happy to see their diligence working against them. "The diligent ant poisons his whole family" would be a good slacker proverb.
"The diligent ant poisons his whole family" would be a good slacker proverb.
Holy shit, would it ever. There would've been a huge market for such a collection in 1993.
Maybe you can sell it to their children.
The slacker abides
Emerson's all oldey-timey pater familias, of course. He just throws in some of that slacker stuff in a bid to sound more up-to-date and "relevant."
A blog titled "Spidey-Powered Adjunct" would be pretty awesome.
"Slacker Ant", however, is only a not too shabby band name.
The ants are milling around this morning wondering where the poison is. They're very insistent. I forgot to put it out last night.
My youngest daughter loves ants. She's fascinated by them, refuses to walk where she might step on one, etc.
So last weekend I promised her she could get a toy from the local five and dime, which is filled to the rafters with decades old inventory of cheap playthings. And what did we find? An ant farm!
There's a coupon inside the box you have to send away to get the ants. Hopefully the company hasn't gone out of business in the meantime. It says it takes about six weeks to get the ants in the mail, and they won't ship them if the temperature is above 85 degrees. So I have several months of being able to hold this over her head: "Brush your teeth like a good girl, or I'll tell the ant farm people not to send the ants."
She has already been exploring a possible Plan B, discreetly asking me whether ants that she finds outside would be able to live in the ant farm.
120: Bruce Schneier's response to the ant farm/coupon arrangement was "Wow, there's a company that will mail a tube of live ants to anyone I tell them to!"
The ants are milling around this morning wondering where the poison is. They're very insistent. I forgot to put it out last night.
John, that's not ant poison, that's sugar.
Local DVD store is named Dreaming Ant. There's likely an explanation, but I like the name unexplained.
I found my ant farm disappointing as a kid. You have to be pretty perfectionist to make them work, I think. And lucky, too, maybe.
It didn't help that young John kept yelling at the male ants to stay away from the queen.
Also, feeding them beer.
We had some ant lions (they make the conical traps) in a sandy part of our yard (under where the turtle sandbox had been). I dug one up and put it in a jar and tried to feed it ants, but my youngest refused to let me. That was when I realized he was not presidential material.
A blog titled "Spidey-Powered Adjunct" would be pretty awesome.
While New Brunswick Day itself was a quiet time for city police officers, they had their hands full with a deluge of calls over the weekend - some of them bizarre. The capper on Friday evening's police scanner items may have been the malfunctioning Spidey-senses of a gentleman who attempted to leap from a roof into the window of his uptown apartment building.
The unidentified man was hospitalized with several broken bones after trying to leap from a roof into the third-storey window of his old apartment.
"He thought he was Spiderman, only his Spidey tinglers didn't help," said Staff Sgt. Don Cooper.
The man's landlord had reportedly changed the locks on the doors of his Princess Street apartment. Undeterred, the man climbed onto the roof of a nearby building, which was two storeys high, and attempted to jump to his window. He didn't make the jump, and fell to the pavement.
The man is listed in stable condition, with a fractured pelvis and fractured facial bones.
My youngest daughter loves ants. She's fascinated by them
Well, they are fascinating.
The Leiningen South American cocoa plantation is threatened by a 2-mile-wide, 20-mile-long column of army ants.
126- Wow, Apo. That is so cool. A little creepy that they are better at running their world than we are ours!
Well, they are fascinating.
I do think that the discoveries around how ants and bees and other social insects work (especially the tie in to their genetic scheme) and the incredible adaptations they have made has been one of the signature scientific stories of the past 50 years.
I ♥ ants. Here's another very cool video.
130: I think that's the same video.
Bad Mama managed to let PK's ant farm agar dry out without ever ordering the ants, thereby disappointing both PK and his grandpa (who sent the ant farm).
I remember the ant story from the radio. Scary for a seven-year-old.
@: Stanley does have a very attractive uvula.
