My Most Ridiculous Adult Failures

The childish obsession with growing up is one of the greatest deceptions in the universe.  As kids, we are conditioned to believe that all the ills of our lives will all be fixed and resolved by the time we reach adulthood.  Every year closer is an inch towards independence, wisdom, and an all-encompassing constitution.  Adults know everything and always know best.

So, when you reach 18 and you are still reaching all-time lows on a five-a-day basis, you start to realize that even adults can make mistakes.  I was recently inspired by a post over at the wonderful Scarlett Wonderland (seriously, visit her Blog for further fun and shenanigans) which detailed her 3 biggest blunders of her mature life.  Naturally, this got me thinking about the stupid crap I’ve done since I turned 18 and, coming up with far more than 3 and being unable to choose between them, I decided to list them.  This list is not in chronological order, nor is it in chronological disorder.  It just is.

1.  Used an old pizza box as a bathmat for 6 months.  In my defense, I simply couldn’t be arsed to buy one.

2.  Made a double-decker sofa by fixing a bed frame onto some struts and putting a bean bag on top.  It was all going well until someone decided to sit on the top storey, at which point I realized that Blu-Tak wouldn’t support the weight of a human.

3.  Called the local cryptozoologist to examine genuine chupacabra scat in my back garden.  The black droppings turned out to be roasted bees from the “Barbeque Under the Beehive” event that I hosted the day before.  Well, that and a bit of my own scat that I used to claim my territory.

Tasty when grilled

4.  I once bought a pineapple under the sea to be more like my hero, Mickey Mouse.  The estate agent who sold it to me was a shady character; absorbent and yellow and porous was he.  He also didn’t explain that I’d have to have gills to fully utilize this piece of real estate, meaning that I lost most of my savings in the process.

5.  Tried to plumb in my own bathtub, only to inadvertently create a sentient robot made entirely from brass pipes and powered by steam.  The robot couldn’t speak or move since I didn’t give him limbs or a mouth; all he could do was whistle in pain as piping hot steam scalded his body.  A local steampunk convention travelled across the country to set up in my front room, which was annoying when I was trying to watch Take Me Out.

6.  Broke gravity by gluing some buttered toast onto a cat’s back and throwing it in the air.  The cat couldn’t land for days until, eventually, the realm of physics was destroyed and had to be restarted.

7.  Offered to make balloon animals at a kid’s birthday party, but didn’t have any balloons.  Luckily, I had a fresh supply of condoms that had only been partially used (managed to avoid a massive fail with that one).

8.  Went on a voyage to the bottom of my goldfish tank to find ancient treasure.  It turned out the treasure was cursed by Aztecs, which gave me numerous medical conditions such as impotence and an irrational fear of Philip Schofield.

9.  Accidentally, yet purposefully, ran over the cat next door, simply because it was prettier than me.

10.  Went around irritated for three weeks because I could feel something in my eye.  Turned out it was my eyeball.

That’s all the embarrassing things I dare to list right now.  You guys better not take the piss out of me.  I’m sharing my inner soul here.  My cat-killing, cursed soul that is, but my soul nonetheless!

Your Friend The Bee

Bees bees, the musical fruit.  The more you eat, the more you toot.  ~ Ancient viking poem on bees.

The plight of the bee is well documented at this point.  You've probably all heard the phrase Colony Collapse Disorder; a mysterious event where bee colonies suddenly and unexpectedly die.  This has been happening across the world for the last few years, with startling acceleration.

So what's causing the issue?  It has been speculated that mobile phone signals might be interfering with their navigation, causing them to be unable to find food.  Others have suggested that parasites or disease might be the root of the problem.  However, one bright spark suggested that pesticides (the insect killing chemicals they spray all over bee food sources) might be killing the bees.

This seems to be the most likely cause.  Who knew that insect poison might poison insects?  Of course, the bees weren't the target of the crop spraying, but that's similar to me infecting everyone in the world with HIV in order to try and kill Piers Morgan.

Obligitory bee picture for bee article

"But Addman, why are you so concerned with the plight of the bee?  Haven't you been known to tear apart hives like soft bread to get at the sweet, sweet honey?"

Yes, and that's exactly why I'm concerned.  No more bees means no more honey.  In fact, no more bees means no more flora and fauna in general.  Bees are the single most effective method for flowers to have sex with each other.  Through some complex mechanism that I was too busy doodling dragons on my biology book to full take in, bees get inside flowers, flowers have sex with them, then the bees go other flowers and spread the sperm around.  It's called pollination; a fairly new phenomenon that all flowers have been upgraded to with the latest patch.  It's so cutting edge that it's no wonder science hasn't yet thought of these consequences.

So, how can you help bees and beekind?  First off, don't spray them with a can of Raid.  If they enter your house, catch them in a glass and let them out outside.  They only sting if you threaten them, so a gentle touch should keep both you and the bee safe.  Don't shout at them, curse their mother's, or throw ball bearings at them from the opposite side of the room.  In fact, a bee sting equals certain death for the bee as it tears out it's own digestive tract with the sting, meaning that it will only use it as a last resort to protect the hive.  If you're really scared and squeamish, just open all your doors and windows and wait for it to leave.  Trust me, the bee doesn't want to stay in your house.  He has no interest in sleeping on your couch, watching Dog The Bounty Hunter and eating all your sliced cheese.  He'd much rather be out in the wilderness, naturing it up like a motherfucker.

Dear readers, I implore you, please be kind to the bees.  They are on the verge, and your kindness and understanding will help.  Allow flowers to grow in your garden that may attract bees.  Don't pave over your back yard just because you can't be bothered to maintain it.  Let the bees do that.  If we take away their pollen sources, as well as poisoning them, we're signing their death certificate.

I would also encourage you to have sex with the bees and try to repopulate the Earth with a hybrid race of rabid man-bees, but I have been assurred by a scientist that this isn't a viable option.  Instead, I beg you for your awareness and your support for the bees.