Wednesday, March 30, 2011


When I was a youngster my mom and dad would call me honey.

"Honey, rub my feet."

"Will you change your brothers diaper, honey?"

"Honey, get over here, fan my face, and feed me grapes while I watch Young and the Restless."

You see what I mean.

So, when my wee brother started learning names he called me honey. He couldn't get down the stairs all alone, so he would stand at the stairs and scream: HONEEEEYYY, HONEEEEEY!!!!!! I would come running, push him down the stairs, and have a good laugh.

My parents neighbors even call me honey. The name just kind of stuck.

Now, I am about to tell you a sad story. Lately I've been suffering. Every morning I look in the mirror, start to cry, and turn away in disgust.

I've been cursed with...



I know, I know. I live the. hardest. life. ever.

Since facial death has fallen upon my face I've been frequenting to find a cure. It turns out honey will be my saving grace.

And the choir sings!!!

I've been slathering this on my face for 15-20 minutes a couple times a week. Then Derrick licks it off while I shout praises to the queen bee and her hive. Hello pre-pubescent skin!

I also use it as a spot treatment for any zits that do happen to pop up. Even yucky chest zits. The next morning they are gone! It's a miracle for sheezy.

If you decide to give this a try you have to use raw honey. None of that crap in the bear bottle. If you have any questions, your Chinese friends at your local health food store should be able to help you out. Have a rice day!

(Yeah that's right. This is all I have to blog about. And I'm not going private. I'm an overreactor and I'm just not that big of a deal yet.)