Barbed Walkers

Two bees, or not two bees. That isn't a question. In fact, if I had known I was going to say that fifteen minutes ago, I may have contradicted that fact. It's very simple, however. There are absolutely two bees. Even if I'm wrong, and I highly doubt that there are flying birds, two bees would have to absolutely surely exist. How could we have all this honey in the world if two bees didn't exist? That's right. We couldn't. Two bees are the only thing separating us from no bees. Furthermore, if we had no bees then we would not be separated from those no bees. If something doesn't exist, such as the two bees, which in fact do exist, then you could not be close or next to it. Like, if trees didn't exist, no one would be saying that they are fifteen feet from the nearest tree. It wouldn't make sense. Even though trees don't exist anyway, two bees do.

I had something else to write about, other than the fact that there are two bees. I cannot remember that for the life of me, however. I'm sure it had something to do with magical cloud formations. Stuff like Abraham Lincoln. This world would be much different if Abraham Lincoln was born as like a teenage punk kid from Malaysia. He would wear those giant, flat-billed ball caps all the time and be like, "Yo, yo, it's me Lincoln." It wouldn't make sense at all. Just like those trees and how you can't be next or away from them.

I sincerely have no idea what I am talking about anymore. Please call the real Abraham Lincoln and tell him of my situation. What if he still had a beard, but it was on his forehead? They could call it brow-beard. And he could sail the seven seas in search of the last Sears. It would make quite a movie when you think about it. Enough rambling, though. That movie would probably be number four or five in the box offices the year that it releases. I mean, it probably wouldn't be the best movie, but it would certainly be up there. How about them wounds, huh?

-Griffin