A funny thing about introducing a new queen into a hive that has lost its queen (or one that you’ve killed because her brood was too fighty).
You have to introduce the new queen into the hive with these special queen cages that are stopped up with candy, and are open enough to let the hive smell the new queen, but not open enough that they can get in there and kill her.
Because they will kill her.
When you first put the new queen in she smells like an intruder, but by the time it takes the bees to eat through the candy and free the queen, the queen’s pheromones will have had time to work and the hive will have gotten used to her.
From the outside this kinda seems like:
“Yeh, we were all going to murder you to death before, but we’re full of candy now, so we’re cool. Oh yeh, and how about you be the new queen and stuff. Yeh, that’s cool too.”
Category: General
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My friend helped me out at work today and didn’t want the Blood Sorrel that was in the way to get composted so they transplanted it (with crossed fingers and loving words) to a new spot. Native to Europe and nearby areas in Eastern Asia and North Africa, this sorrel or dock is supposedly best when young in salads. I love how it looks but don’t love how it tastes. #lezbehonest #bloodsorrel #bloodydock #rumexsanguineus #sorrel #dock #roughwoodseedcollection #takeyourfriendtoworkday
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Why do some Targets have those big red concrete orbs out in front of them what purpose do those big red concrete orbs serve

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(via bunneeboo)
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Thank you, tumblr, for recommending that I follow myself.
You’re right, that bit of fanfiction I wrote IS the kind of thing I’m interested in.That’s very helpful.
I have to agree with tumblr, you’re worth following for definite. Just in case you weren’t sure about it.
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The Most Beautiful Man In The World, Who Lives In My Building And Only Ever Sees Me When I Look Disgusting
The Most Beautiful Man In The World lives in my building. i don’t know his name. we met on a bus, when i smiled WAY too brightly at him for strangers because, honest to god, my whole heart lit up in a way that made me think, “oh, i must know that guy!!” no. i didn’t. he’s just The Most Beautiful Man In The World.
what does The Most Beautiful Man In The World look like? i will tell you:
- like the way the sun spills over water at dusk
- like the way food smells when you’re hungry
- like the sound angels make when they’re doing folk covers of pop songs on their heavenly harps
- and also kind of like the guy who played Chad in “high school musical,” if the guy who played Chad in “high school musical” was the most beautiful man in the world.
i tell you this not only to brag that i live in the same apartment complex as The Most Beautiful Man In The World but also because i want to know WHY, if there even IS A GOD, every single time i run into The Most Beautiful Man In The World i look like a LITERAL DUMPSTER TROLL that has just CRAWLED OUT OF ITS GARBAGE HOUSE in search of FREE WIFI AND A SLURPEE. i want to know why i can never just BE COOL with The Most Beautiful Man In The World when we ride the elevator together, which is!!!! kind of often!!!!!
DID YOU GUYS KNOW that sometimes i look nice?? sometimes i actually look like a FUNCTIONING ADULT!!! sometimes i would go so far as to say i am an ATTRACTIVE INDIVIDUAL!!!!!
you know who DOESN’T know any of that???
THE MOST BEAUTIFUL MAN IN THE WORLD, WHO LIVES IN MY BUILDING!!!
here’s a quick rundown of the last few times i ran into The Most Beautiful Man In The World:
- i was wearing a maxi dress i had very cleverly biked home in, without a helmet* (*don’t try that at home, kids), in the VERY HOT AFTERNOON SUN, so i was a GROSS SWEAT MONSTER but without any OBVIOUS INDICATOR that there was a normal reason for it, and i couldn’t stand to look at him so i just glared at my phone while he probably wondered, alarmed, whether i was fleeing the scene of a crime
- i was wearing a white shirt that i had not SECONDS before spilled salsa ALL OVER in a big red stain right down the front like a KINDERGARTNER
- i was carrying two armfuls of ENORMOUS bags of popcorn with a three musketeers bar literally in my mouth and he overheard me say through my stuffed candy cheeks to my doorman, “oh, no, i’m not having a party, this is literally all for me”
- i dropped my backpack while opening my mail and said to it, defeatedly, “why? why did you do that when i explicitly told you not to? do you like being on the floor?”
- i fell into and then off of the elevator
why??? why does this happen??? what vengeful god has orchestrated it so the ONLY TIMES i ever run into The Most Beautiful Man In The World are when i could easily be mistaken for a child’s doll that has been put through the wash by accident, or a dollar bill that has been stained by years of being in people’s sweaty palms, or a mop with eyes???
whatever. everything costs money and everyone you love disappoints you. Mop Eyes out.

I have no idea what’s going on in this post, but I desperately want The Most Beautiful Man In The World of this post’s fame to have secretly been in love with his neighbor Trash Monster the entire time.
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Etti-Question
Sooo, apparently, here it’s common to say “thank you” after an interview in an e-mail. This, in the UK, would be considered atrociously pushy. Anyhow, that has thrown my expectations for a loop.
So, oh great Tumblr, I got invited for an interview, and prior to the interview they’ve asked for a written piece of work, which I’ve just submitted (by e-mail, to one of the interviewing team).
Now I have an e-mail from them saying “Thank you” and “Just to let you know we got it” and “Look forward to seeing you”.
…does that need a reply?
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This genre-spanning thriller about human cloning is so committed to its out-there premise that it employs a science advisor to keep its fringe genetics on the up and up. Like all great science fiction, the BBC America show spins out from an all-too-real premise: the commodification of women’s bodies by those in power. But Orphan Black’s true secret weapon is virtuoso actor Tatiana Maslany, who’s slipped into the skin of 11 different characters and counting, from a cockney con artist to a tightly wound soccer mom to a fanatical serial killer. A show that could get bogged down in its million conspiracies remains compulsively engaging thanks to whip-smart dialogue and that mesmerizing central performance. JS

