BeehiveHairdresser.com

It is with extreme sad sorrow that I have the burden of informing all of you that 2006 has days to live. 2006 came down with a very bad cold late last week, the cold developed into pneumonia, and 2006 isn’t expected to make it through the weekend.

I realize that this will be tough on all of us, just remember that 2006 would like for all of us to remember the good times, and laugh about them.

I know I myself will without a doubt remember some of my favorite memories that I spent with 2006 like the Ron Mueck exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum. My many strolls through the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens with the Cheese while falling for one another. The many brunches at Dizzy’s. Watching TV with my Grandma. The wonderful summertime blooms of my front garden. Discovering the fun times of blogging at work, and I will forever remember that wonderful hot summer.

2006, Fred Flintstone is the smartest person that I have ever known and he said it best. He said, “Wilmaaaaa!!!” In regards to the words “you’ll go down in history”.

With that, 2006, from all of us over in the land of Beehive Hairdressing I say to you, WILMAAAAAAAA!

The other day I went ahead, splurged, made the biggest purchase that I have ever made, and ordered this:

It’s a Bowflex Revolution, and in a one to two weeks it shall arrive at my place in eight boxes. Then six weeks after that I will be able to truthfully state that I have a Bowflex body. Yes, I will be that obnoxious and I honestly tell everyone that I have a Bowflex body.

I can’t wait.

I kind of want to pay it off by starting up my own pay per minute porn site featuring videos of myself.

To My Tummy,

The love hate relationship that we’ve had over our lifespan should just stop. Can’t we just put all those times that I filled you up with booze and ice cream, or the times that you allowed virus’ inside you to be behind us? Seriously. I want to make peace with you, with one condition. That being, do not ever allow another virus into my tummy like the one we had in there yesterday.

Thanks,
B.H.

P.S. Thank to that virus, it now looks as though I’ve been doing my crunches nonstop this week.

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To One Of My Field Reps,

You emailed me on Thursday 12/21at 6:01PM saying that you needed help with something that expires on 12/31/06, which requires that you do 20 hours of training, AND that you are going to Cabo, Mexico 12/22 through 12/29, AND that you would like me to help you out with getting it all done.

Good luck with that.

Thank you for waiting until the very last minute and then trying pawn the blame of your complete lack of responsibility off on me.

Situations like this make my workday worthwhile. Really, they do. Especially when you begin to Cc the entire world from Cabo, of your plight to get me to do the things that you should have taken care of yourself weeks ago, I thoroughly enjoy watching people like yourself drag themselves down like that.

Best of luck come January 1, in attempting to make money off of commissions when you can no longer legally do so.

Signed,
The Man Who Is Not A Salesman, But A Professional

Welcome to the final installment of I Am A Pig On Tuesdays. This week follow along side as I discuss our favorite hottie, the person who comes up lucky number 7 on a google image search of Ms. Menopause.

Isn’t she breathtaking?!?!?

I know, I know. Calm down boys. I know that you are all finding my Ms. Menopause google search woman to be by far the sexiest, most refined, and by far the most exquisite Babe of the Week thus far.

Just remember, as the saying goes, save the best for last. Which is why Bettie White is looking finer and finer with each passing day, if you know what I mean.

Wink wink, nudge nudge… hehe. God she’s a total hottie.

If it’s possible, and that’s a big if. If anyone out there is capable of giving me the belated Xmas gift of a threeway involving the sexier than sex Ms. Betty White, and the hotter than the hottest hot flash Ms. Menopause I assure you that I will name my first born after you as a show of my thanks to you.

Let get to a judging…How hot is Ms. Menopause on the HUSS Scale???

HUSS HUSS HUSS HUSS HUSS HUSS HUSS

She is a perfect seven out of seven on the HUSS Scale.

You might not know this, but I do have another blog, and believe it or not, people have been requesting that I update it. So, if you are interested in this other blog I must warn you that I tend to tell stories involving poop and things of that nature. Still interested? Good!

Follow this link to read about how I pooped and barfed all over this guys bathroom floor.

I cannot access my blog and when I am taking a crowded subway home the high school kids sitting next to me complain to each other about their Christmas break homework assignment, and how lame and boring the given book they were assigned to read is. In times like this I sit quietly with my eyes closed, until I find out the title – Lord of the Flies!

How could they think that Lord of the Flies is boring? Mind you that I myself have never read the book due to the fact that they made it into a movie, but I imagine the book to be just as good as the movie.

Sheesh! Kids today!?!?!

To New Yorkers At Large,

I don’t know how many of you might already be abreast of the situation, but I need to tell you all that there is an apparent outbreak of some type of diarrhea in the city.

I know this to be true because last night on the R train during the evening commute I saw a pile of dried human diarrhea. Maybe it wasn’t so much a pile of diarrhea as it was the remnants of the explosive dump that someone took while sitting in between two seats on a subway car, it was dried up, yet still splattered against the floor, wall, and seats. Three fellow commuters did not even notice the scene until it was too late.

People of New York, you have been warned!

Sincerely,
Beehive

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To The Makers Of Hot Wheels Little Big Wheel,

WTF?? Seriously, WTF? You gave detailed directions on how to assemble the little big wheel and no direction whatsoever as to where all of the stickers should go. A couple of Sundays ago I took my time to carefully make sure that I put the little big wheel together properly so that my two year old nephew does not kill himself while riding it. I also went through the painstaking task of finding all of the places where the stickers should go. I am glad to say that the little big wheel that I built looks great with all but one of the stickers given to place on the sweet ride.

Where does the last sticker go? It is a cross between an “L” and a boomerang. Did your company place that “L” shape sticker in there to mock everyone that puts it together and allude to us all being a bunch of losers? I have sat, thinking long and hard at the big wheel as to where this last sticker should go and there is just no place for it to be put without it looking like a retard placed the “L” sticker on it. I watch TV & played PS2 all the while your sticker silently mocks me from my dining room table.

Please just let me know where to put it…

Thanks,
Beehive

For the many of you who have never been to my place I will let you know that I live in an attached two family in Brooklyn. I garden in the front and back yards, and have a hedge line that is part of my property line. The hedge line is in between the path to the cellar steps of my place and the attached place of my elderly neighbors.

I’ve tended to this hedge line for years and years and years, before I did it, my dad took care of it, before him, my grandfather took care of it. It is one of two remaining hedge lines on the block. Two and a half foot high metal fences that are painted black have replaced all of the rest on the block. To be honest my hedge line looks way better than the one up the block due to the constant trimming that I do.

In the summer I trim it as needed, which is about every two or so weeks, and then every few years in March I cut back about a third of the hedge line so that it will keep its shape, and so that both cellar steps are able to be accessed. I always clean up all of the cut pieces so that there is never an issue.

Last night I went out to the supermarket around 9PM, the hedge line looked the way it has looked for the past few weeks – cut in a box form, and mostly leafless from the winter cold. I came home about 20 minutes after I left and as I turned to go up my steps I realized the hedge line looked different.

I went back to inspect and saw that my elderly neighbors cut the entire length of the hedge line off on the side facing their cellar walkway. It was not overbearing and blocking their right of way to their cellar steps. They just up and cut the things right off.

This immediately sent my blood boiling. There are only a few things that I take very personally, and damaging a plant that I have tended to is grounds for justifiable anything on my part. Part of my brain was telling me to ring their bell and beat them up. The other half was telling me that beating up a 90something year old man was not a smart thing to do. Then I thought I will kick in their entire picketed fence, I realized that this would be way too obvious that I was the culprit, especially since we could see one another through their cellar door, plus I do not ever want to be arrested, and I would rather live my life in a legal fashion.

I went back into my place with my groceries, paced around, and decided that I would just write a note instead. It went like this

“NEXT TIME YOU
WANT ME
TO CUT MY
FUCKING HEDGES
CALL ME!
THX. BEEHIVE
917-XXX-XXXX”

Then I angrily walked over to their front door, I slipped the note into their mailbox, and then I cautiously walked back to my place so that I don’t break anything in the fit of rage I was feeling.

I got inside, and sat in the Tony Bennett room trying to figure out what happened, and also plot out my revenge – which of course will be lame and at the same point they will most likely not even realize I am being vengeful.

Based on the fact that this was done at night and under the cover of darkness it is safe to assume that they knowingly knew that they should not have just cut the hedge line like that. Since the man is in his 90s and his wife in her 80s I am fairly certain that they could not have cut and bagged an entire 20 feet of hedge line in less than 20 minutes. They must have had an accomplice. Their own “Kato” & “A.C.” if you will*. It might have been their 40something year old son, but I highly doubt it since he has never helped them do anything physical. The help might have been their downstairs tenant who is in his 30s and strong enough to cut and bag things fast. Or, the help might have been the mysterious man that was huffing and puffing his way up the block as I walked down with my groceries. Either way, they must have had help.

My revenge will be done within the law, which is most definitely passive aggressive. My revenge will be that I shall never help them again, ever. This might not seem smart, or even be perceived by them, however, I have shoveled in front of their house for years and years and years since they moved onto the block without any thought of receiving money.

I did it just for the fact that they are elderly, their physically able son would never do it, and I didn’t want to walk on ice or have anyone slip and get hurt due to their lack of clearing a path. (There is an old age home two blocks down and our front walks are utilized by elderly 24/7 to get to the supermarket)

There are other things that I can do too, for instance not give the friendly hello again. Consider it gone. I will not take the broom while sweeping in front of my place and sweep the few feet over into the front of their walk out of “niceness”, I will no longer clean their drain in the inner courtyard that we share (it is impossible for them to access it without a ladder), and I will certainly no longer help them turn the soil in their backyard in springtime. Yes, slowly but surely their lives will be slightly inconvenienced. I do reserve the right to continue to receive fresh fruits and vegetables from them if offered!

When it does snow, and when they sure enough do not clear a path in front, or pay a kid $20 to do it for them I will most definitely be the douche bag that calls 311 and demands that they be ticketed, same to be said if they attempt to illegally rent out their basement as an apartment again.

These are the main points of revenge that I can do. I think of them kind of like the sanctions against North Korea – usually lame, and meaningless to the people that the sanctions are meant to effect.

*OJ is innocent.

So there is a new woman working on my floor, and I swear to God she looks strikingly similar to female pro wrestler Luna Vachon* – minus the side of head tattoo.

This new woman walks around with a frown on her face, looks very tense, and has somehow managed to scare each and every person on the floor so far. Only the last part makes me slightly envy her.

*Note that this is not the babe of the week. I cannot access the proper photos needed at work this week, I will post “I AM A PIG” this evening.

Welcome to this weeks session of my being a pig. I would like to introduce the world to my choice for this weeks Babe of the Week, the Spirit of Christmas.

Sweet sweet Christmas…

You know what they say about Christmas, right? It’s better to give than to receive. I myself am all for this saying, as long as I am on the receiving end of Christmas giving, and when Christmas looks this good:

This good:

And this good:

I would be a fool to give up any receiving of what the Christmas Spirit might give.

Yes, thankfully I didn’t grow up in some family that did not believe in the Spirit of Christmas, or in a family that was some other type of form of Christianity other than Catholic, for if it wasn’t for Catholicism there wouldn’t be the need to over give thanks to Catholic guilt.

Catholic guilt is the greatest thing about being a Catholic. The Muslims have Mecca, the Jews have Saturdays, and us Catholics have guilt. It is what makes us who we are. Without guilt us Catholics would only be a bunch of people that don’t practice what is preached, and Sundays Masses would only be a mass gathering of people that can’t hold a note to any song. Guilt is the tide that binds us together!

Guilt is what makes photos of the Christmas Spirit like this:

This:

And this:

So good!

Sure there are good photos alone, but ad guilt to the mix and whammy. You have a rocking good time. Who hasn’t eaten a gallon of ice cream and then felt guilty by it? Evangelicals, that’s who!

If us Catholics never felt the guilt, we would turn into a bunch of obese Southerns who can eat whatever they want without any guilt whatsoever. This is not the picture of the Christmas Spirit:

Nope, it sure isn’t. That is a picture of what us Catholics call a demon child.

Now if you take anything away from reading this weeks Babe of the Week, the Spirit of Christmas, take this:

This:

And this:

For they are the true meaning of Christmas.

Now lets hit up the old HUSS Scale. How hot is the Spirit of Christmas on the HUSS Scale???

Judges….?

HUSS HUSS HUSS HUSS HUSS HUSS HUSS

There you have it, a perfect seven out of seven.

Over the past few years SNL shorts have been what I find actually funny on SNL. Here are two that I really like. An oldie and a new one from this past weekend.

Laser Cats

Dick In A Box

Due to the drunken events of last night I will once again attempt to relearn and remember not to mix wines and vodka.

My head, back, tummy and butt are all sore.

On a side note, I am told that I still looked great while butt naked and my head in the garbage can vomiting…