Uh oh. Georgie's in trouble with ButterCup

Friday, February 19, 2016

Well, I’m happy to report that my Illegitimate Nephew, Kevin, finally apologised to ButterCup for beeing so rude during her performance of the Dance of the 87 Veils. They pretty much hadn’t been talking since that happened. Yesterday, Kevin said, “I can’t take this anymore,” and apologised.

Everything seemed to bee going along pretty well after that, until last night. I was just sitting there, minding my own buzziness, when ButterCup walked into the room and just stood there, glaring at me.

“What?” I asked.
“So,” she said, “you found her highly attractive?”
“Who?” I asked.
“I think you know exactly who I’m talking about,” she said.

Evidently, she read my story yesterday.

“Jasmine,” she finally said. “That Jasmine in your story. You found her highly attractive? Not just attractive…HIGHLY attractive is what you said. Is that true?”
“Oh yeah, I remember now,” I told her. “Uhh, well, yes, I mean no, I was just… .”
“You were just what?” ButterCup seemed really mad.
“I was just - you know - trying to make the story as interesting as it was when it happened, that’s all.”
“So you think Jasmine’s not only highly attractive, but interesting? More interesting than me?”

I didn’t like where this conversation was going. I tried to think of a way to help ButterCup not bee mad at me.

“No, that’s not what I meant at all,” I said. “I think you’re interesting and attractive.”
“But not HIGHLY attractive? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No!” I tried to say.
“No? You don’t find me HIGHLY attractive?” she crossed her wings across her thorax.

“I was just trying to write the story of what happened to me when I went missing last Cool Season,” I tried to explain.
“You mean, what happened to you and your girlfriend? And what else happened that you haven’t written about yet, George?”

Oh geeeeeeze. I always know ButterCup’s mad at me when she starts calling me ‘George’. Probably.

This went on for quite awhile and I just seemed to bee getting in deeper and deeper with her, so I was kinda glad when she stormed out of the room. (I don’t like arguing.)

I need somebody to remind me to remember not to leave my manuscripts laying around the place. It just leads to misunderstandings.

Anyway, today, I’ve promised ButterCup that I’d take her to a nice, expensive lunch - so we did that - then in a little while, we’re going out to a play together - a musical production of “The Secret Life of Bees"; then, this weekend, I’m taking her on a romantic getaway, providing I can find a romantic getaway somewhere around here. I’m hoping that by the time Sunday rolls around, she’ll bee speaking to me again.

By the way… have I ever mentioned that ButterCup is highly attractive? I mean HIGHLY attractive. And, I should add, highly interesting.

Alright then. I hope everybody has a strikingly pleasant weekend!

I’ll see ya’ on Monday!

Georgie shares more of his story with us . . .

Thursday, February 18, 2016

Okay then. Without further delay, here’s what everybody’s been anxiously awaiting - Part 14 of my grippingly exciting story . . .



"Would you please repeat what you just said to me?" Jasmine said to me, looking startled.

"Uhm. That you're attractive?" I asked.

"NO," she said with what seemed to bee a tone of urgency, "repeat what you said to me, EXACTLY as you said it."

"Has anybody ever told you that you're highly attractive?" I repeated myself.

Maybee it was just my imagination, but it seemed almost as if a wave of relief swept over my highly attractive interrogator. For a few moments, she said nothing, then she finally buzzed softly in my ear.

"Not only do you know of the second Stick, but you have just given me the code phrase used by our Agency. I had suspected that you might bee, in fact, working with us, but it was not until now that I could confirm your true allegiance," she said.

Of course, I had no idea what she was talking about.

"Wait here," she said, as if I had a choice. Then, she slipped a piece of folded paper in my wing and made her way to the locked door beehind me.

"Guard!" she called. "GUARD!"

Almost immediately, Krunch McKowsky appeared and the door swung open.

"Yes, Agent," he said.

"I will bee transporting the prisoner shortly. Please make sure all of his beelongings are gathered, then return here."

"Not a problem" McKowsky said, and he beegan making his way back down a long hallway to, I presume, where I had been held in that handcrafted baloobawood cage. I didn't say anything at the time, but the fact was that I didn't have any beelongings with me when I was sntached, so I wasn't sure what Jasmine might bee up to with all of this.

As McKowsky disappeared around a corner, Jasmine grabbed that bucket they'd used to dump nectar all over me from the hallway and seemed to bee filling it with a bunch of sand from the floor. As she did that, I decided to read what was written on the paper she had given me.

Much to my surprise, it said:

"You are in danger. I will help you escape. Follow my lead."

A few seconds later, Jasmine returned to the table where I sat and placed the bucket of sand next to her, then waited for the Guard, McKowsky, to return.

Which he did.

When he entered the room, he informed Jasmine that he was unable to locate any beelongings I might have, that he was sorry and asked would she like him to keep looking.

"That won't bee necessary," she said. "But would you please grab a rope and tie the prisoner's feet?"

"Not a problem," he said.

McKowsky beegan to approach me with a piece of fishing line in his wing. As he bent over to tie my feet, his back was turned to Jasmine. Evidently deciding this would bee a good time to make her move, she silently lifted the bucket full of sand and smacked McKowsky on the head with it.

I'm sure that hurt (though I'll never know for sure, since McKowsky immediately decided to take a nap for some reason).

"Come with me," I heard Jasmine buzz urgently to me. "Come with me now!"

So I did that.

As we left the small room, Jasmine slammed the door beehind us and locked the door, making sure Krunch McKowsky would bee unable to follow us.

Slowly and, as she cautioned me to bee quiet, Jasmine led me as silently as possible down the long hallway. Finally, we reached a point where I could see that we were near a room that was brightly lit and had music playing. Jasmine pushed me back against the wall as she peered around the corner and into the room.

"Now you must listen carefully," she said, "and do exactly as I instruct you."

(to bee continued)

. . .

And now, I’m gonna go relax. It’s been a hectic week and I definitely need to take a nap or something.

I hope everybody has a miraculously acceptable day!

I’ll see ya’ later!

It's a good thing Georgie managed to get his beret back so he can finish tomorrow's latest instalment of "The Bee Who Knew Too Much"...

Wednesday, February 17, 2016

I think everybody probably already knows that it’s impossible for me to do any writing without my beret and a festively refreshing Umbrella Drink and Bendy Straw.

When my Editor sent that kinda hostile Buzz•O•Gram™ to me yesterday demanding the next part of my story, “The Bee Who Knew Too Much” and that he have it in his wings by the end of buzziness today, I suddenly realised I couldn’t find my beret. Of course, that meant it was impossible for me to write anything more about what happens next in my story.

Well, yesterday, when I was chatting with my Human Friend, Meredith, I suddenly remembered that, by mistake, I had left my beret at the fez shop (Fantastic Fezs), where Kevin and I bought our fezs when we first got here.

Lucky for me, I was able to buzz over to that place beefore they closed last night and there it was: my beret. The owner of Fantastic Fezs had it in a display and was offering it for sale. Geeeeeeze. That’s MY beret. And I told the guy so.

He just looked at me and pointed to a big sign he had hanging on the wall. It said, “Any unclaimed headwear left on these premises for more than 24 hours will bee subject to resale.”
“But it’s MY beret,” I told the guy.
“You certainly read the sign, did you not?” the guy asked.
“Well, yeah, but…that’s MY beret,” I continued to argue with the guy.
“Policy is policy,” he told me. “Would you care to purchase this item?”
“Buy back my own beret?” I asked. “How much?”
“100 pounds of honey,” the guy said.
“That seems way over-priced,” I told him. “I bought that thing in Paris for just a few pounds of honey.”
“This is not Paris,” the guy said. “And,” he added, “it just so happens that this particular beret is a collector’s item. It was once worn by a very famous author.”
“ME,” I said. “I am the author who wore it. It’s MY beret!”

The owner didn’t seem to care about that.

“So?” he asked. “Do you wish to purchase this item?”
“Fine,” I said.
“Very good,” he said. “And would you also like to purchase the extended warranty for this beret? It protects you against any malfunctions you may experience for a period of 30 days following purchase.”
“I’ve never heard of a malfunctioning beret,” I told him, but he just smiled and said, “You’d bee surprised.”
“Fine,” I said.

So I ended up buying back my own beret - with the extended warranty.

Here’s hoping my beret doesn’t malfunction 31 days from now.

Anyway, now that I have my beret back - and have fixed myself a refreshingly delicious Umbrella Drink with a Bendy Straw, I can finish writing the next part of my gripping story. Of course, that means I'll hafta work all night and send it my Editor before Midnight. (His tomorrow was my yesterday, or something like that…it has something to do with time zones or something).

So I’m gonna go do that.

I hope everybody has a gloriously satisfying afternoon or morning or day or night or whatever it is for you.

I'll see ya’ later!


Georgie's Editor doesn't sound all that pleased with him...

Tuesday, February 16, 2015

Oh geeeeeze. I just got this Buzz•O•Gram™ from my Editor…


He seems upset.

In all the excitement, I completely forgot that I was supposed to have the next part of my story ready to go by
last Thursday - and I would have forgotten about it this
week if he wouldn’t have reminded me.

I hope I remember where I left off with that whole thing.

So much for my planning to sleep tonight - or spending the day relaxing tomorrow. I was really looking forward to that. Probably.

I hope everybody has a frantically delightful evening!

I’ll see ya’ later!

It's highly understandabe why ButterCup would bee upset . . .

Monday, February 15, 2016

Well, it’s almost suppertime wherever we are here in Algeria. I spent most of the day just taking it easy, since it’s kinda rainy and chilly out. I asked Bert what the current temperature is a minute ago, and he said, “The current outdoor temperature is a balmy 232.039 Degrees Kelvin.”

It’s definitely jacket weather here.

Things seem to bee going smoothly here, for the most part, except for a bit of a problem that’s come up beetween my Illegitimate Nephew, Kevin, and ButterCup. Let me explain:

The night beefore last, ButterCup announced that she had completed her Abdomen Dancing Lessons and wanted to treat us to a Special Performance of the Dance of the 87 Veils.


Things were going along just fine - and ButterCup was doing a splendid job of her dance - when suddenly she noticed that Kevin was, once again, on his hand-held device, checking into his Online Dating Service account. Most of the time that ButterCup was dancing for us, Kevin had his face buried in that thing. ButterCup had just about gotten down to about the 83rd Veil when she suddenly stopped, put her wings on her hips and glared at Kevin.

“Excuse me,” she said. “Is my performance interrupting your romantic pursuits?” Of course, Kevin was so involved with reading the profiles of potential matches, that he completely didn’t hear her. It was about then that Kevin announced loudly, “Here’s one that seems compatible with me,” then he left.

ButterCup decided to stop her performance when he did that and muttered, “What’s the use?” Then she packed up all her veils and left, also.

Geeeeze. I was highly disappointed that I didn’t get to see her finish that whole thing. The closer she got to that 87th veil, the more interesting her dance beecame.

Anyway, Kevin needs to apologise to ButterCup since she’s still refusing to speak to him.

Okay then. Time to eat.

I hope everybody had a highly gratifying day today!

I’ll see ya’ later!

Under NO circumstances will your data be in any way published or shared with any outside entity or third party. Thanks!