Honey Badger Don't Care

Honey badger don't care. Honey badger don't give a shit.

On January 18, 2011, YouTuber czg123 uploaded "The Crazy Nastyass Honey Badger," featuring National Geographic footage of the fearless mustelid with narration by a self-proclaimed animal lover named Randall. His delivery was camp, irreverent, and absolutely unhinged.

"Look at that sleepy fuck," Randall cooed as the honey badger raided a beehive. "Oh, the bees are stinging him. He doesn't give a shit. He's just hungry."

The video struck a nerve. Within months, it had accumulated tens of millions of views. The honey badger became an unlikely icon—a spirit animal for anyone who had ever wanted to just not care about consequences, critics, or cobra venom.

The meme transcended YouTube. Wonderful Pistachios hired Randall for commercials. MythBusters referenced it. Danica Patrick cited the honey badger as her racing strategy. "Honey badger don't care" became shorthand for aggressive indifference.

But even the most fearless creature eventually tires. By 2013, the phrase had been so thoroughly adopted by brands, motivational posters, and your coworker's email signature that using it unironically felt like wearing a shirt that said "I discovered memes in 2011."

The honey badger retreated into the savanna of cultural memory—still respected, still feared, but no longer actively raiding the beehives of the internet.

Rest in peace, you crazy nastyass legend. You never cared, and we loved you for it.