Why I'm Anti-Honey Bear!

I tee totally agree with the Barry B. Benson, star of the BEE movie, bears should not be used to store the honey, they STEAL honey.  It's like selling knives in OJ containers!

Oh and P.S. since we're talking about the BEE movie, anyone know what "Scripting" is?  It's often times a symptom of autism or even PTSD, but my BFF @essjaydubb does it and claims to be mental illness free, I suppose it'd be wrong for me to give my professional opinion of her mental health here on the blog, but then again she's not a patient so I'm not violating HIPPA, this was just not something we covered in ethics class?! Any who, she scripts! The majority of her dialogue is peppered with movie quotes and/or noises, which isn't necessarily problematic, but I learned by accident it doesn't stop there. A while back, Sara had spent the night and was in my bathroom taking a shower, alone I thought.  I continued to hear her talking, not singing, but talking so I yelled a response, "Yeah?"  No response, but continued conversation.    Once she was out, I said, "Who were you talking to?  Were you praying?" Her face reddened and she irritatedly replied, "NO!" Later in the day she said, "Would you like to know what I was saying in the shower?" "Yes please!" I was quoting the Bee movie. Me: "?" She replied in character voices:

You're gonna be a stirrer?

 Nobody's listening to me!  I can say anything I want right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo!

Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack it up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth, and start calling everybody "dawg"!

Now you can draw your own conclusions about Sara's mental health, but I should continue you on about why I'm totally ANTI- the honey bear.  It's not because I'm a Bee's Rights Activist.  The honey bear and I totally had a run in several years back to which I have never fully recovered from.  Just yesterday the nearly decade old incidence made me gag!

Picture it, Sicily , I mean Kansas City, the year 2005. (If you don't get that last reference then you need to watch the Golden Girls more!)  It was cold and snowy out, much like it is today, it was one of the weekends between Thanksgiving and Christmas.  I was with my KC family, headed to Grandma Days' for a Thanksgiving Christmas meal.

The fixings are all laid out, turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, green beans, homemade rolls! My mouth is watering just thinking about it! Bradley Jo is behind me in line making sarcastic remarks about my need to hurry it up! I grab the honey bear and drown my rolls and green beans and dressing, for good measure, in honey and head to my seat. I cannot wait to sit down and eat!!!! I take my place at the card table, it must've been the kid's table because Brad and Bubba both sat there too.  I place a fork full of goodness on my honey buttered homemade roll and took a bite while my mind said, "Get in my belly!!!"  That's when my hatred of the honey bear began!

See, Grandma Day had repurposed the honey bear ; once the honey was all gone she had filled it up with lemony orangey citrus dish soap.  All the fixings were set up on the kitchen counter right beside the sink, where the honey bear rested, stating clearly on his belly that he was fully of honey! The yellow, orangish liquid deceptively drizzled out slowly masked as honey all over my Thanksgiving meal.  I was ruined at first bite.  I couldn't taste anything, but liquid dish soap the rest of the day. To this day if I smell citrus dish soap I can taste it! "Dang" you Honey Bear!