So I'm sitting and working on my book, which is always a source of constant ridiculous joy and sorrow for me, when I realize that this little website has not been worked on........at all, in the last several weeks.  Ok let's face it months....Ok let's face it, I never really worked on any of it...I got ghostwriter to do it.  Yeah I know he's pretty busy helping children solve mysteries like 'why are all my old underwears in the desk in uncle harry's guest room,' but he often takes time off to give me a little help in the old literary outpourings.  Granted, the rants offered here are rarely educational, but what could you possibly expect from a floating ball of ectoplasm?  I'm fairly sure that in the show they eventually came to terms that the ghostwriter is some kind of spirit coming back from the grave....which bears some questions I think. 

QUESTION THE FIRST!
Why is there a book called 'the secret life of bees?' 
ANSWER THE FIRST!
People got tired of thinking of southern women as trashy overweight sluts who are barely able to put on a mumu let alone offer anything to society, themselves, other people in their immediate viscinity, or even as an example for the middle-school science class to the wonders of buoyancy and gravity.  INSTEAD, now we think of them as woefully pitiful idiots who manage to bumble(hilarious) through their difficult lives with an optimism that can really only be met with phrases like 'go speed racer go' and the equivalent amount of vomiting to cover up any chance of true redemption.  How can I judge such a well-thought-of book without having read it you ask?  The answer lies in the title.  Let's consider that on its own shall we?  What could bees possibly be doing that is secret?  Going to all night raves?  Getting freaky in the honeycombs?  Going to the store to by fuzz-weaves?  I mean really, there's really only one thing I feel I'm truly in the dark about when it comes to bees' lives...where they poop.  And do any of us really want to know that?  I mean it's gotta go somewhere, but c'mon, they can't poop in the honeycombs...After all they're either getting freaky, or there are BABIES IN THERE.  No species poops on its babies, except for the germans.  Following that strategy for logical conclusion, let us look once again to the southern women and how they are very much like bees...... READING THIS BOOK IS LIKE GETTING STUNG ON MY ANUS, I DON"T KNOW WHAT IT"S LIKE BUT I"M REASONABLY SURE IT"S GOING TO HURT AND LEAVE A STAIN ON THE BACK OF MY PANTS.  Oh this is ripe with connotation, have a field day. 
(Please note that I am offering no such nastiness to women as a whole, and this rant is full of south-hate.....I am reminded of stupidity everytime I drive in southern maryland.....thank you confederate flag)

QUESTION THE SECOND!
Why does poetry want to make us all want drive nails into our eyes with dead squirrels?
ANSWER THE SECOND!
Some of you may be saying to yourselves, poetry doesn't make me want to do that at all, it makes me want to love, or experience the world in new ways.  I would 'rebut' by saying, why don't we all go down the pastry shop and buy some cookies.  Then we'll just LEAVE THEM IN THE STREET AND WATCH CHILDREN GET HIT TRYING TO GET TO THE PILE.  YOU FUCKING MONSTERS!  Poetry is the lazy man's answer to prose.  Rather than writing 30 pages, 100 pages, or nay, even 3000 pages, you chose to write five.  Five pages of non-sequential, 'nuanced' (what this really means is uncompromisingly needlessly vague), bullshit!  Whether it's shakespeare or modern poetry, poems are essentially the mind de-fragging itself and getting ready to load on something useful....like warcraftIII.  And I'm flat out sick of everyone writing poetry and thinking that it's all profound or helpful to their expression as a person.  THERE ARE VERY FEW GOOD WRITERS OUT THERE, I CAN GUARANTEE THE MOMENT YOU DECIDE TO WRITE A POEM, YOU ARE NOT ONE OF THEM.  I myself TRY to not completely humiliate myself from a writing standpoint, but we all know that it is nearly as bad as losing your pants at your mother's funeral.  STOP BEING ANOTHER ONE OF THE WORLD"S DISAPPOINTMENTS, GO OUT THERE AND GET A JOB POWERWASHING SEWAGE TREATMENT TRUCKS, DICKBAG!