Como Park Bee Skyrise Sparks Fears of Hive Gentrification


Saint Paul, MN — The installation of an artist-designed four-foot-tall “sky rise” condo building for pollinators has local hives abuzz, with some bees excited about the luxury living conditions and some fearing a sweep of gentrification changing the landscapes around the parks and lakes of the Metro area.

“I can see it through the trees from every angle—those tacky geometric color blocks,” says Bertha B. Bloomsbury, resident of a hive several trees from the new condo. “I think the builder is trying to appeal to younger bees, ones who work in corporate at Target, Beecolab, or Best Bee, but I don’t see how this housing pattern is sustainable for the regular blue-collar pollinators making the rounds on local gardens.”

Others, however, find the sky rise an exciting new option for lifestyle improvement in the Twin Cities. “Daycare for my eggs and larvae, nearby garden of pollinating plants, and extra storage space for my honeycombs? I was shocked,” Bobby B. Burt told The Nordly just weeks after the sky rise’s opening, straightening the collar of his Hivezod polo shirt. “Finally a home to stay in for my winter sales meetings where I won’t get frozen solid in some iced-over tree. I’m telling all my friends in Chicago to swarm on over.”

“I was skeptical, but I stayed in a one-bedroom as an AirBnBee during the Final Four, and I was sold,” says Bret Beerson, who has kindly offered to show The Nordly his studio. “Such an improvement on those wooden bee hotels in public gardens. The real marble honeycomb really adds a brightness to the walls. This has nothing, though, on the penthouse upstairs, for my queen.” He beams to a gold-framed portrait above the bed’s headboard.

Due to the success of this first pollinator sky rise, which was created by University of Minnesota Bee Lab researchers, funding has been secured for the creation of a second sky rise, on Lake Phalen in Saint Paul.  

Will bee sky rises improve the quality of life of the Twin Cities bee population, or will all the buzz just lead to further economic disparity? Bee Real Bee Everywhere, the group behind the sky rises’ design and construction, has declined to discuss construction bonuses and zoning laws, the average unit in the bee skyrise costs between 1,500 and 3,000 grains of pollen per month.

Rooftop Season, Patio Season, Whatever You Call It: Day Drinking is Back, Baby!


MINNEAPOLIS — Hot damn! The sun has returned, baby! Minnesotans are fucking stoked that it’s once again socially acceptable to be publicly intoxicated every weekend until Labor Day.

Locals are jumping at the not-at-all alarming routine of midmorning brunch mimosas rolling perfectly into the dark and stormys paired with afternoon sushi as a standard pregame schedule for concerts, sporting events, and house parties taking place during the evening hours. We’re here for a good time, not a long time, especially with what few weeks of shorts weather we have left, am I right???

The rooftop vistas and  ambitious drink specials will be quenching the thirst of us fun-loving alcoholics. No more crying over Two Buck Chuck in our pajamas during a snow emergency, because all the Minnesotan mommies and daddies are out in the full force of shameless self gratification.

Is Your New Landlord 21 Squirrels In A Trench Coat?


We’ve all had a bad landlord: one who never returns your calls and ignores your maintenance requests. But suddenly, you have a new landlord. Who knows why! But you’re suspicious. This landlord seems...different. Odd, even. And he always seems to be hiding small amounts of nuts and seeds around your house. If your hunch is correct, your new landlord isn’t “Sam”, like the name tag that's crookedly affixed to his trench coat would lead you to believe. No, you’re pretty sure “Sam” is 21 squirrels in a trench coat.

How can you be sure, though? Here’s four questions to ask yourself:

1) Does “Sam” ever speak?

If not, that’s not necessarily an indicator. He might just be a gruff, silent type. And it’s possible he lost his tongue in a freak cross country skiing accident. Or maybe it’s because his mouth is painted on a mannequin head held aloft by 21 squirrels in a trench coat. Painted mouths can’t talk.

2) Does “Sam” have multiple tails?

Your average landlord has 0 tails. Perhaps, every one in a million has a small vestigial tail leftover from a birth defect. But if Sam the landlord has multiple bushy tails bursting out of sleeves, his neckline, and between buttons, there’s a good chance those tails are attached to some of the 21 squirrels surely hiding in a trench coat.

3) When he leaves, does “Sam” just head directly into the forest?

After his business is said and done, a regular landlord will head to their residence, whether down the block or a short car ride away. If your landlord “Sam” is in fact, 21 squirrels in a trench coat (still holding up that mannequin head), then it makes perfect sense that they head directly into the deep, untamed woods— where no human dares to tread—behind your residence.

4) Does “Sam” stop for a snack at the birdfeeder?

When heading past your place, your regular landlord might stop in to chat.. But 21 squirrels in a trench coat will head over to your birdfeeder, hold up one empty “arm hole” to the feeder, and let each of the squirrels take turns racing up and down from inside of the coat to grab their share. They’re always quick. They need to finish and “walk” wordlessly past you, into your house to hide the birdfeed. That way the  greedy 47 cardinals in an evening gown can’t find where “Sam” keep their stash of food.

Clearly, it can be hard to know for sure if your landlord is 21 squirrels in the trench coat. All of these reasons could be simple misunderstanding or happenstance. Best to assume Sam is a normal human man. And normal human men can easily be asked to stop using your attic to store obscene amounts of acorns and seed that mysteriously disappeared by the end of winter. Or at least, be asked for a rent discount to compensate for it.