cannes or cannes not

ok, so this year i have a wee, wee, blink and you'd miss it part in a film that gets accepted at cannes. and for an absurd fleeting moment, followed by immense laughter, i consider separating myself from an even more absurd amount of cash, and battling the hoards on the Riviera. 

my friend Dave, the director of the film has promised to be my date. Dave is hot, single, and extremely warm then i see stock photos of the crowds and i'm body checked by primal fear. 

it has to be said though that when the bee photos appeared, well, i would have camped on the beach in my tiara to have been there. 

hindsight's always 20/20, yes?  Mr. Seinfeld's view, if not the altitude, must have been breath-taking

moot or hooey?

bees have five eyes, and never sleep