BeehiveHairdresser.com

My Toilet Tank Has Seen Better Days…

There is an empty box of Puffs Plus, and an unopened pack of Always Clean on it. How has my life come to this???

I Am A Pig On Tuesdays!

Welcome to I Am A Pig On Tuesdays.

This week follow us on the road to Mrs. Ingalls…sweet sweet Mrs. Ingalls.

Many of us first met Mrs. Ingalls back in Little House On The Prairie. Sure, lots of us have grown up watching this tender mother become an even more tender mother, despite living as if she was in the 19th century during most of her adult life which actually happened in the 20th century. Somehow during all this, Mrs. Ingalls got up each morning just to give the average passerby a woody. She was a miracle, always able to keep herself strong and sexy. We never saw her without a smile on her face that wouldn’t make us want to bone her.

Mmmm… Mmm… Mmmmmmmm

Mrs. Ingalls, while I realize that you are a married woman and a mother as well, I just wanted to let you know that you are currently, have always been, a MILF. You have the heir of an exquisite old fashioned girl, and I’m sure that under it all you are just wild wildebeest of lustful passion, waiting to be released.

If I had the power to I would officially name you to be the one and only National All American MILF.

I’m sure the question you all want to know is this, “Why hasn’t Mrs. Ingalls ever posed for a smutty older woman who lives as if she is in the 19th century magizine yet?”

The answer to that question is I’m working on it. Each night before I go to bed, I get on my knees and pray to God to give Mrs. Ingalls the strength to realize that photography was indeed around in the time during which she enjoys pretending her life is happening in, and that she will one day pose, if not for the sheer principle that we all want to see her naked behind.

Yes we do. Don’t none of you deny it out there.

Just how hot is Mrs. Ingalls of the HUSS scale?

HUSS HUSS HUSS HUSS HUSS HUSS.

She’s an outstanding six out of seven on the HUSS scale!

-Beehive

For You, My Loyal Readers…

This is what I look like while sleeping on the Cheese’s couch, along with her cat, Igby. I did not pose for this what so ever, and didn’t even know that it was taken until I awoke. I wish they made a subway car specifically for me to ride in whenever I ride the subway, a car that had this couch, and a cat similiar to Igby to keep me company. I would sleep like the dickens.

Yesterday I Went To The Movies, And Saw “The Departed”

I don’t want to spoil any of the plots for anyone out there that has yet to see this fine film.

With that in mind here are my thoughts on this film, it was good, then great, then good, then great, then good, then great, was good, then great, then good, then great, then good, then great.

Oh, and somewhere in there I saw a protruding female nipple.

I’m A Teenager???

Last night I met the cheese outside of an art gallery in Chelsea. When she arrived we hugged and kissed hello. While we were smooching I could hear two kids in the background commenting on our kissing. They were a boy and a girl about the ages of 7 and 10. I kept hearing things along these lines:

“Ewwww….”
“Gross….”
“I can’t believe they’re doing that!”
“They’re kissing!”
“Disgusting.”

I was being amused by these comments, especially since as a little kid I used to do the very same thing. Then I heard this:

“I can’t believe those teenagers are making out!”

They thought we were teenagers? I had to process their words and try and decipher sarcasm. Nope, no sarcasm. I know I look young, but a teenagers???? Ms. Cheese certainly didn’t mind being confused with being that of a teenager.

Thanks kiddies.

Then I went to the opening, saw some good photos of monkeys, then really bad paintings that were ridiculously overpriced, some saw really good art that would easily fit into the first floor of MoMa - I really like the first floor of the new MoMa.

Then I went to the monkey party. That’s right, a monkey party, and yes there was in fact a real live monkey there. It was way fun.

Pic(s) to follow, hopefully.

I thought that I might be able to figure out a photoshop type program in very little time and make the monkey more easy to see in these pics, and can’t for the life of me figure it all out in three minutes.

If there are any gurus out there, go for it, fix it up, post it up in comments or email them to me.

All three shots were taken by the cheese on the cheese’s cell phone.

fyi, It looks gross white in the background due to the monkey’s best interest. It had much better ambience in person.

Where Do I Know You From?

I just walked out of a coworkers office, and the woman who has the cube right outside the office door was walking out of her cube at the same time, lets call her Julie. Mind you, I’ve worked on the same floor for three years, in various positions, with one eight month gap until this past July. This was the conversation.

Beehive: Hi.
Julie: Hi.

Julie has a confused look on her face.

Julie: I know you from somewhere.
Beehive: Yes you do.
Julie: How do I know you?
Beehive: From working on this floor.
Julie: Huh?
Beehive: Yes, this floor.
Julie: Oh, that’s right you used to work for fill in vendor name
Beehive: Nope.
Julie: Where do I really know you from?
Beehive: I used to work for fill in managers name here.
Julie: Ohhhhh! Don’t I know you from somewhere else?
Beehive: Nope, just this floor.
Julie: What are you doing back?
Beehive: Working.
Julie: Why?
Beehive: I need money and want to work in a place at least half civilized.
Julie: Ohhhhh…

I left her with a look on her face as if her brain is still hurting from all of this. Who knows maybe she really has seen me somewhere else. Like this blog…or as a dancing church lady, or as scuba boy, or from a handful of underground cable access television shows, or maybe was in an audience at some show I’ve done.

Gulp!

It could have been worse; she could have called me Josh, Justin, or Kevin.

I Hope That No One Panicked Yesterday Over That Plane Crash…

Remember this: If you are ever scared or worried that you as an American are going to be either a victim of, or killed by terrorism, or be a victim of, or killed due to an airplane accident, you are much more likely to get diarrhea, which is an injury in my book, in fact, you are also much more likely as an American to die from diarrhea than die from terrorism. FACT!

You might be surprised to find out that each and every person in America suffers at least one bout with diarrhea each and every year. Only 3,100 Americans die each year from terrible diarrhea.

Golly gosh, who’d of thunk it, huh?

That’s an odds death by diarrhea of 1 in 87,741, which isn’t that great an odds of dying, which should mean that the chance of being a victim or death by terrorism is that much less than your brain originally thought.

Don’t believe me about diarrhea? Maybe you’ll believe me about obesity? Odds of death by simply being a fat person are a staggering 1 in 906. That’s about 300,000 people dying each year prematurely due to being fat. Wow! You might want to worry about what you eat, rather than “Is this it?” every time you see a plane overheard, or someone who “looks” like a terrorist.

Don’t believe me? Google it, and find some very respected institutions that will back me up.

I just love this video that has been on gawker all week. They have been poking fun at it since it was apparently it was a self-promotional video that was sent to a really big and well-respected banking / investment institution. Love it. Enjoy!

fyi, this is my first video post.

Open Letters To People Who Will Most Likely Never Read Them,

To The Person In My Office Who Sprayed Something,

I’m not sure what you sprayed, it smells as though it might be a type of hairspray, or maybe some type of cologne / perfume. Either way whatever it is a horrendous smell. So overbearing that I felt as though I would collapse from lack of oxygen. Have you absolutely no clue that there are over 100 human beings some 250 feet up in the sky trapped within windows that do not open, and that the air we breathe is constantly recycled within itself? Your stupidity does not astonish me considering the company we work for is full of complete morons. If I find out which idiot you are you might want to plead stupidity by reason of working in a fiduciary capacity.

Regards,
A Burned Inner-Nostral Having Beehive

—–

To The Manager / Employee That was Conversing In The Men’s Room,

I don’t exactly know what you two were talking about, other than it had to do with work related items. Mr. Manager was at a urinal, while Mr. Employee was in the third stall. Why the two of you continued your conversation through numerous gas sounds, and all out butt explosions is beyond belief. Have either of you heard of a meeting behind closed doors to discuss business? Or perhaps somewhere else in the building, a place is not a bathroom that is currently being used by both of the people who are talking about their new strategy.

The fact that the both of you seemed indifferent to the sounds of loud gas, and the noisy dropping a multiple deuces leads me to believe that this was not the first work meeting that you have both held at that darkened smelly locale.

You both disgust me!

Only due to your lacking of self-respect for not allowing peace of mind while extricating liquids, and what sounded like semi solids out of your bodies.

Regards,
The Man Who Knows What You Two Did

—–

To The Guy In The Elevator This Morning,

You were blasting Better Midler’s “Hero” at 8:45AM from your Ipod. You are a NRI of my company –Non Resident Indian that works at my company. You appeared to still be a few years away from old enough to be actually listening to Bette Midler for the enjoyment of Bette Midler’s music. Don’t get me wrong; I’m a sucker for lite music every now and then, and Bette Midler can rock the lite stuff very well. In fact she might even be up with the best of LITE FM, however, you sir downloaded her song somehow to your Ipod. This is an inexcusable act. People are starving all over the world, you could have helped one of Sally Struthers kids with two days worth of food, instead you spent that money on “Hero”. “Hero!”

If I ever see you again riding in my elevator early in the morning with any Bette Midler song blasting for all to hear within a 20 foot radius I’m going to make sure you get the point that you should, fly flly fllllllllllllllllyyyyyyyyyyyyy away back to India. America is the land of the free, where dreams came come true, not the land where every individual has the right to oppress all within earshot with Bette Midler’s music.

Regards,
The Guy Who Exited The Elevator Bleeding From My Ears.

—–

To People Who Say, “You Know, The Simpson’s Is Really Brilliantly Written, It’s So Smart”,

Folks, this show has been on the air for nearly 20 years. Each time you say this remark, it only allows the person that you said it told to realize and remember that you must have been living under a rock for the last 20 years. Save yourselves the embarrassment of doing this, and just talk about how you haven’t watched TV since M*A*S*H went off the air. Also, I’ll be holding my breath for about 10 or so more years for you to finally wise up and watch an episode or two of South Park. Godspeed.

Regards,
A Critic Of Others “Witty” Comments

—–

To The Black Cowboy Of 34th Street,

About once a week or so I spot you getting on the Uptown D train at 34th Street. You are a very muscular man, with long straightened hair pulled into a ponytail, wearing dark sunglasses, tight starched jeans, cowboy boots, and a cowboy hat. Where are you coming from always? I like to assume that you are always coming home from an acting gig that ran way too late, through the night and into the morning. I know that I am most likely being naïve in this regard, and it’s all due to the fact that I don’t want to believe that you are still living in your great wardrobe of the 1980s. My neighbor down the block still does too, and that is mainly caused from the fact that he is an alcoholic that lives in his fathers basement cause he can’t hold down any type of steady job. You on the other hand appear to have a good job, one that people look up to and respect, whatever that might be, and since we are on the aisle of Manhattan, that well respected job could not be possibly be a cowboy. Furthermore, if you want to get all dressed up and play cowboy, I suggest you keep this as a weekend look only. This might come as a shock to you, and I’m sorry to be the one to break the news to you, but I bet that everyone you know says things like this behind your back, “What’s up with Jim always dressing like a cowboy?” and “Does he really think that him looking like a cowboy is a good look?”

Yours Truly,
The Messenger Who Realizes You Are Not A Real Cowboy

—–

To The Woman That I Woofed At Under My Breath This Morning,

I know that it was impossible for you to have heard me with all the many people walking in the concourse, plus you were on the way far side away from my walking line, yet I was able to see you from as far as the eye could see, due to the overabundance of makeup that was globbed on your face. While there was no denying that your face appeared as though it lacked good basic structure to have what most Americans would classify as anything close to a good looking face, all that make up just compounded the ugliness of your genetically horrific looking face. You had so much makeup on that I do not think it was possible for you to have done that all this morning, the only way you could have had that much makeup on would be if you had gone to each and every makeup store in the city and asked for “a free makeover”. Sure I know plenty of women go into Bloomingdale’s and get the makeover, however, they don’t then walk out and run to three dozen other hot spot locales to get even more makeup caked on their faces. I can only imagine the looks of horror each makeup consultant must have had each time you walked in to their department demanding that you be made beautiful, for which that is an impossibility. You have a lost case – case closed. In the future if you have even a quarter the amount of makeup that a children’s birthday clown wears on their face, that means you have too much, this morning you had at least 18 times that amount, it must have been nine pounds worth. Remember this one that I learned growing up watching Full House, it was advice given to DJ by Becky in regards to application of makeup, “Less is more.”

Regards,
Someone Who Wonders How You Live With Yourself

—–

To The Woman Who Announced The Plane Crash Yesterday Afternoon,

When one of your coworkers saw that there were numerous coworkers running around the floor in a panic, they asked two questions, “Is everything alright? Did something happen?” Your response was “A plane crashed into the building.” To which both myself and two other people screamed out, “What?!?” To which you replied, “It crashed into the building on the Upper East Side.” That was quite wrong of you, and so very stupid of you. The building would classify it as being the building in which we are all currently sitting and standing in. The building on the Upper East Side is irrelevant, you should have said a building on the Upper East Side. Let me take this opportunity to let you know that there is more than one building over there, and that we are not in any of those buildings. So, in the event of another plane crashing into a building ever again, do not state that a plane crashed into the building, unless it is in fact the building that you are current an occupant of. This will save hearts from jumping out of their chests.

Very Yours Truly,
An Occupant Of The Building

I Don’t Want To Complain About My Current Work Situation…

So I will say something good about it, something that I can’t wait to have happen.

I can’t wait for my unit to be completely dissolved, leaving me either A) still in the department or B) unemployed with the opportunity to do something else.

I look forward to this day with great joy.

See, that was a happy post, right?

I Am A Pig On Tuesdays!

Welcome to I Am A Pig On Tuesdays.

This week follow us on the road to Ms. Elizabeth Perkins…sweet sweet Ms. Elizabeth Perkins.

I first recall seeing Ms. Perkins in the movie Big, a film in which this “older” woman falls in love a ten-year-old boy. Yowza! Yowza! Yowza! Talk about a fine young man to bring home to mom, sheesh!

Over the years we’ve all watched Ms. Perkins only get better and hotter looking year after year, personally my favorite look that she wore was in the newly classic film, “Finding Nemo” in which she so cleverly portrayed living breathing rocks in the form of coral.

One might ask, “Just how does Ms. Perkins stay so hot and spicy year after year?”

The answer to that question is we sure as heck don’t care, just keep looking good, honeypie.

Just how hot is Ms. Elizabeth Perkins of the HUSS scale?

HUSS HUSS HUSS HUSS HUSS HUSS HUSS.

She’s a perfect seven out of seven on the HUSS scale!

-Beehive

Hip Hop Legend Celeb Spotting Friday Night

I wasn’t going to post this, since I didn’t want to out someone, however, a google of his name reveals that he sure seems to be out to me, and if he hasn’t officially made the statement, he has not tried to hide it. Sometimes actions are clearer than words.

Just to be clear, my statements are not that this man is gay, he just appeared to be out on a man date, they only appeared to be lovers. My eyes could have deceived me, only I seriously doubt that they were.

I spotted Doug E. Fresh out on a date with his man friend Friday evening. They were sitting one table over at Sushi Park, 2nd Ave & 7th Street, around 7PM. They were quiet, and his date was saying something that seemed to be embarrassing to the hip-hop legend. It sure did not seem as though it was a first date to me.

I was more surprised to see him eating at Sushi Park more than anything else.