No sense in beating around the bush. I have a confession to make, so here it goes:
Hi, my name is Quirky Girl, and I like Burt’s Bees lip balm a tad bit too much.
I like it so much that I sometimes find myself subconsciously ingesting it so that I can apply yet another layer 45 seconds later.
Oh, it’s not all flavors.
Mostly wild cherry.
Oh, and açaí berry, too.
Who am I kidding?
They’re like the moisturizing lip balm version of Jelly Belly.
But in my defense, it’s 100% natural, nontoxic goodness.
Unlike Jelly Belly.
So theoretically, if I were to eat a whole tube of Burt’s Bees, I would (probably) be okay.
Not that I would.
Mmm. Wild cherry. So good.
What do you mean I’m not supposed to eat it? Why do they make all these amazing flavors, then?
I was at Target the other day, overfilling a super-sized shopping cart with thirteen tons of household necessities, when an unusual display caught my eye.
“The _ees are disappearing and need your help!”
“With this purchase, you will help support _ee habitat. For each BringBacktheBees lip _alm sold or tweet with #BringBacktheBees, 1,000 _ee-friendly wildflower seeds will _e planted!”
For goodness sake, the b’s were missing!
How could I not take action?
How could I live with myself?
And what of this nonsense to omit the letter b from tweets!?!
I’d rather spend a couple of bucks on a practical tube of lip balm than visually assault my eyes with such improper spelling.
So I bought one.
Even though I have at least 27 other tubes of lip balm.
Even though I have mixed feelings about bees.
Oh, come on. They freaking sting people, for God’s sake.
But damn it, Burt’s Bees campaign to… well… bring back the bees…just seemed like the environmentally responsible thing to do.
I like nature.
I like natural products.
I like honey well enough, too. It’s got some terrific health benefits
And bees themselves must have some redeeming qualities, surely?
After all, 1 out of every 3 bites of foods we consume are products of pollination by bees, from fruit to coffee beans.
But between climate changes, pesticides, loss of habitat, and disease, the honeybee population has been quickly declining.
I’m guessing people with potentially fatal allergies to bee stings aren’t too heartbroken, though.
After all, the little suckers are seemingly fueled by our flesh.
Well, that, and a desire to kill us all.
Scare a bee, get too close, step on it… you will get stung. And they will inject you with a lovely venomous substance called apitoxin.
And when honeybees sting, they also release pheromones that can rouse other nearby bees into joining in on the fun.
So one stinging bee can easily turn into hundreds of stinging bees in just a matter of seconds.
Such a fine example of mob mentality.
And not only do they leave behind their stingers when they sting, the bees also leave part of their abdomens, digestive tracts, muscles and nerves.
Don’t these foolish insects ever learn? This irreparable bodily damage is actually what ends up doing them in.
Think about all these unnecessary deaths. It’s like a self-induced bee apocalypse.
I just had a revelation!
Sure, we could all raise a ton of money to plant billions of wildflowers to help these bees.
But wouldn’t more bees’ lives be saved if they’d simply quit stinging people and dropping like flies?
Whoa, sorry. Terrible analogy.
Look, I truly don’t mind supporting a worthwhile cause.
But what if I do my part to help bring back the bees… and then they all turn around, band together, and sting me in the butt as I’m reapplying my sweet-smelling, bee-friendly Burt’s Bees lip balm?
Remind me again why exactly we’re trying to save these evil little suckers?