Bee Persistent, part II

1. This is a bad sign: I started talking to the bee today. He stuck around a bit longer, but he wouldn't sit still long enough for me to take his picture, and he didn't answer when I asked: "Why my window? Why every day? Are you really a wasp trying to terrify me?" Not a very conversational little guy.

2. The war is over. The Bloggess has been un-Twitterblocked by William Shatner, who is no longer single-handedly drowning the world's polar bear population or putting Baby in a corner. It was a hard-fought, short-lived battle, and the victory feels a little anticlimactic. So I'd like to share some of the more terrible/hilarious things for which The Shat was held accountable during the five-day campaign before he relented and let the Bloggess into his sandbox (shameless self-promotion included below, but I can't claim them all as mine):

William Shatner fed my dog chocolate.
William Shatner might have hexed the shopping cart that ripped my toenail off this morning.
The FailWhale is really William Shatner is disguise.
I blame William Shatner for my cramps.
William Shatner gave Old Yeller rabies.
William Shatner switched my coffee to Folgers crystals.
William Shatner drank all the regular coffee and left me with decaf.
William Shatner told The Little Engine That Could that he couldn't.
William Shatner is organizing the Apocalypse from his basement.
William Shatner ate the last cookie.
William Shatner thinks those jeans make you look fat.

Those and other cannonballs lobbed through cyberspace at the seemingly unrelenting walls of William Shatner's unfounded dislike of the Bloggess brought about an e-truce, and now the barbed wittiness has ended. I'm kind of sad, but I'm also kind of tired of blaming William Shatner for everything that's wrong in my life. He can't have orchestrated all of it.