Deck Tech: Buncha Budget Bees.

Ever wished you could unleash the bees in Magic? Don’t have a million dollars? This one’s for you. ❀

https://tappedout.net/mtg-decks/buncha-budget-bees/

To commemorate I’ve created the below piece. It was created with a . . . *Checks* . . . Sharpie using an insurance renewal statement as my canvas.

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I’m lost.

I question the existence of trees.

I often find myself wondering if trees really exist or not. I have often walked up to them and yelled right at them. I ask them “DO YOU EXIST OR NOT!?” They never answer . . .

I touch them to see if there are there. I can feel them, but can they feel me? Could I say that since they don’t think, therefore they aren’t?

Life’s hard when Google Maps is down.

 

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This is me.

🎺- This is me as I toot my own horn. It’s a great day to be me!

πŸƒ- This is me going for a run down the street. Still tooting my own horn!

πŸ‘ͺ- This is me visiting the fam. Not my fam but a fam all the same.

🎢- This is me playing my song on the horn. Toot toot!

😨- This is them as they apparently don’t like my song I guess?

πŸ˜–- This is the child as their ribcage exits their body in despair. My melody is powerful!

πŸš•- This is me hailing a cab cause I’m too cheap for 911.

πŸšƒ- This is me as I pay for transit instead cause I’m too cheap for the cab.

😀- This is the parents for some reason I paid for the transit what’s their problem?

πŸ‘«- This is them nowadays. Why isn’t the child there?

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Oh, hello there.

It was a rather ordinary day at work. Another day banging away at the keyboard to hack away fruitlessly at a constantly growing mountain of data to enter.

I heard a buzzing. Faint at first, it became louder and closer until it was like a bee in my ear. This made sense because there was a bee in my ear.

“Goddammit Frank. What do you want now?”Β I asked followed by an exasperated sigh through my nose.

“I need your help Tyler! I’m desperate!”Β This question was topped off by the visual of Frank buzzing around erratically a foot in front of my face while producing rainbow sparkles and all sorts of similar garbage.

“Alright, what can I help you with this time?”

“I really really really really needΒ your help this time! I need your help so bad I don’t know what . . . “

“I already said I’d help, please stop.”

” . . . I don’t know what I’m going to do I’m freaking out whatever will I do I can’t deal with this please . . . “

“STOP!” I demanded. I was weary of this before it even began, words couldn’t describe how annoyed I was now. “What do you need?”

Frank took a deep breath.Β 

“I’m going to Olive Garden tonight and I’m not sure how much I should tip?”

Ho.

Ly.

Shit.

This was a complete waste of time. Like always. I buried my forehead in one hand and sighed again.

“I dunno. General rule of thumb is fifteen percent I guess. Adjust as needed.”

With an exuberant thanks Frank poofed away in a puff of smoke.

And that’s why this report was late. I absolutely swear that’s the case. Please don’t fire me.

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I am so good at Splatoon 2. Someday I’ll even play the game proper!