It’s an addiction. In some less permissive nations, it’s a controlled substance. But wherever you are, chances are in your adolescent education you learned to use it responsibly–you’re the boss of the honey, not the other way around. Unfortunately, bears never went to your school.
The orange-rimmed eyes, the agitated, frantic expression, those are the first signs of a honey user. More experienced–or more jaded–users will inevitably learn that swallowing it by the fistful doesn’t give them the buzz it used to, so they start using “the spoon”–if you think your bear is a honey addict, or “honeyhead,” check the nose. If he’s using “the spoon” look for the telltale nasal bleeding.
In the end, honey feeds a downward spiral–at over $12 a jar, the habitual user may have to turn to crime to get their honeypot. Or like this poor, benighted soul, sell himself at a thrift store.
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