May 05

I’m Going Back To The Land

mindofbirdman

But not in a good way.

Yet.

I’m heading back out west in the morning, and I’m not looking forward to it. I know that I never am, but this time it seems harder. Like having to cut off your own leg kind of harder.

I guess everything is harder when I think about it. Life just seems to get tougher as you get older. Better, but tougher nonetheless. Take the internet for example. It’s here to make our lives better, and in some ways it does. I couldn’t imagine not being able to look up anything that I wondered about at the drop of a hat. The knowledge that I gain from having that privilege is immense.

Then there is the part of the internet that isn’t quite as helpful, but helps to pass the time. You know, for when you are bored, sitting on the toilet, or maybe don’t feel like going out on a Friday night.

Social Media.

Sure it lets you keep up to date with who and what your friends are doing, what coffee and supper looks like, and how cute cats are, but it doesn’t take much to get addicted to it. I know. It happened to me.

As most of you probably know, I quit Facebook recently. Strangely enough, I don’t miss it. I miss a lot of the people, but some of the important ones have joined G+, and the ones who didn’t probably don’t need to get a hold of me anyhow.

No_twitter

I watched this yesterday. Two days after telling Mrs. Birdman that Twitter was getting the axe next. They have been ticking me off lately, what with them sending me notifications about who all of my followers are following. Like I care that they’ve all decided to follow Visa back, or whatever the case may be. Oh, and I have just figured out that there is no value in it for me. Anyhow, this really hit home.

It got me thinking about a lot of things, and one was that I need to stop wasting time online. There’s life out there, and procrastinating with my face tanned from the glow of my phone screen isn’t helping anything. I like information, and I need to start using the internet for what it was made for, which I’m certain isn’t trading cat photos and masturbation.

I need to start using the few years that I have left to do things.

Big things.

Important things.

Things like growing food, creating, and enjoying my time with friends and loved ones, which I suppose are one in the same. I love my family, and shouldn’t be spending my time socking away as many hours as I can work, so that I can come home and be depressed about either having no money, or having to leave the love of my life to go back to work in an industry that I only partially agree with.

For twenty some odd years, I have been thinking, wishing, and dreaming about buying a piece of property for cash and building an earthship home on it. Granted, that would take a lot more money than we have, so I guess we’ll have to just keep on working and dreaming. Dreaming of the day where I can get up in the morning, collect the eggs, move the chicken house over to some fresh grass, and empty the compost toilet.

A lot of people don’t understand the appeal of it, but I know that there are a lot that do, so I know I’m not alone. As I was researching I came across this guy.

His videos were interesting, especially this one. I can relate to his feelings, but not to his past. I find it interesting that so many people from such different walks of life are interested in the shift to more simple living. There are doctors, lawyers, truckers, and probably any other occupation that you can think of that just want to get the hell out of the rat race and slow down to a snail’s pace. I think it’s got to be that people are stopping to think about what they’re doing and realizing that everything that they have been taught all of their life is a big load of BS.

If you get a chance, check out The Story of Stuff Project

If you get a chance, check out The Story of Stuff Project

Whatever the individual reasons are, I am very happy to see people figuring things out, even if it is such a tiny percentage. People can see that things need to change and they are effecting the change themselves. That makes my heart smile.

Anyhow, I should go crawl into bed with the most beautiful soul that a person could know, and see if I can get my feet warmed up. I’ve got a long day of travelling and feeding the corporate machines.

For now.

Birdman

Feb 20

I’m All Fired Up

wpid-mindofbirdman.jpg

Remember a few weeks ago when I went to Winnipeg for a blog conference? It was the shizz. I started to tell you about it, but got sidetracked by a bunch of stuff, like the new blog, going to camp, and The Savvy’s birthday party.

What the conference did was got me writing and thinking again. Not so much here, but I’m going to try and split my time up between the two blogs. Now that Aiming Low has been suspended, I will have a bit more time for my own thing.

Yeah, Anissa has been sick since December or something, and she wants to get healthy and spend time with her family. How selfish. Nah, I don’t blame her at all, but I’m still a little bit sad about it. I enjoyed having a deadline, as strange as that sounds, and I’ll miss all of the Google group firings and tomfoolery. If it hadn’t been for my AL posts, I wouldn’t have written anything for a couple of months.

Yipes!

That’s why I needed to go to the Peg. I knew months before I went, that I was going to start a new blog, but that was the kick in the arse that I needed. I had forgotten how exciting blogging was when I first started.

Researching, typing, finding photos, reading, correcting, and re-reading for hours, and then you get to hit that “Publish” button.

It doesn't looks as ominous as it used to.

It doesn’t looks as ominous as it used to.

And you wait.

Will they like it? Will anyone even read it? How many people will be offended by the “C” word? I hope they share it. They probably won’t, but I still hope they will.

These are the things that go through my head, and then I go to bed. When I wake up, I’m sharing it around and checking the stats (today’s post took the lead by 3). As much as I feel foolish admitting it, it really is a rush.

For me. Probably not for you.

On Change The Topic, I rarely ever look at the stats anymore. I will if I write a post that I really put a lot into, but that has been less and less lately. I still need the old girl, but things have changed.

I think it’s like my mom’s Swiss steak, it always makes me feel good, but Reboot is like sitting down to a whole bunch of shared plates at our favourite Thai restaurant. It’s an assortment of exciting flavours, and because Harry doesn’t hear as well as he used to, it’s a crap shoot as to whether you will get your basil beef in any sort of mild form.

If you know me, you know that I’m not always mild. It doesn’t make me a bad person.

My Point

I just wanted to let you all know what is going on in my world. If you care.

Oh, I’m in a way better camp now. It’s the Wonowon Lodge. If you end up working in the area, this is way better than the Super 96. Just a heads up.

Speaking of camps, we have a reviewer who is going to be submitting reviews of camps that he has been to. He’s sort of like Smarty Pantaloons, but I don’t believe he’s addicted to any sort of household cleaner. That won’t be here, if he writes like he talks.

I’m looking forward to coming home in March. I have a urologist appointment to find out why there is blood in my urine. The ultrasound found a cyst, but my doctor said that’s common, and it shouldn’t cause any bleeding.

That’s not why I’m looking forward to it though. I want to go to this.

It's going to be SAH-WEET!!!

It’s going to be SAH-WEET!!! Click the link above, or contact someone to get your tickets.

I can’t even imagine what kind of shenanigans there will be. I won’t have had any libations since the 8th of February, so I should be in fine form. I hope that some of you will come out to this and get your party on with me. I probably need to flush my system for the urologist on the next Tuesday and I might need help holding the funnel.

Alright. I guess that’s it. If you want to check out the new blog, it’s at www.rebootcommonsense.com, but I am warning you now. It is right full of swearing and possibly some anger. It’s oilfield swearing, too. Not your run of the mill cussing going on over there.

Jenny, don’t change your number, 867-5309 867-5309 867-5309 867-5309,

Birdman

Feb 03

Forgive Me Father For I Have Sinned

wpid-mindofbirdman.jpg

It’s been over a month since my last post.

I know that it doesn’t matter, but I’m leading up to something big.

Well, big for me.

I went to a blogging conference in Winnipeg on the weekend, and I learned a lot. It blew my mind.

His name is Derrick. Or was it Derek?

His name is Derrick. Or was it Derek?

This is my last post on Change The Topic that is going to have swearing in it.

Hear me out.

I have been very unfair to you, the readers. I realized this when I lost my passion for blogging in December. It wasn’t that I had lost my desire, but I had grown weary. I felt as though I wasn’t blogging for me any more, because I was watching what I was writing too closely. I was afraid to write about things that I had written about before, like how much I love my family, how depressed I get sometimes, and how much I love my friends. I thought that it would be too repetitive to write about how we letbeg the government to fuck us over on a daily basis, or how we are too self centered to quit buying tons of cheap shit that we can’t afford, just so we can seem like we’re rich.

But that’s the shit that I want to write about.

Sometimes I want to stop the fracking and tarsand abomination so bad that I sit at my computer and cry with frustration, and I want to tell you to open your fucking eyes and see what is happening to our planet in the name of greed.

But I can’t, because that’s hypocritical of me, and until I start making a real difference myself, I can’t get mad when you don’t care about anything except how you’re going to afford the gas in that new Denali outside.

Or can I?

Maybe I can, I don’t know, but I need to have a place that I can write what I want to, without worrying that some relative is going to tell my sister that she doesn’t like how I am always criticizing the Catholic church.

Fuck. Don’t even get me started on that shit.

Here’s the thing though.

Some people like to read the nice posts with no swearing. They like to believe that everything is pure in the world, and cursing or blasphemy is boorish and the work of the devil, or maybe they just feel uncomfortable with it. That’s their choice.

Come on up. We have harps and clouds and shit.

Come on up. We have harps and clouds and shit.

On the other hand, some people like to see me go off the deep end in a rant that would make The Bloggess* look like Mary Fucking Poppins, or maybe a photo blog of me getting pretend ass-raped by a burly dude in the woods.

* I saw her speak this weekend, and she was the real deal.

And some people like them both.

Those are my people.

Those are the people I used to write for. They understand that people have dimensions and depth, and they know that everything isn’t always nice. Sometimes it’s absolute shit.

Yeah, I know we always say that we write for ourselves, but if that were true, I would have 800000 words on this computer, and would never have published my first post to the web.

Nope, I write for you, and for validation.

I need to feel like I’m good enough, and writing gives me that. I also want to make some new friends. :)

Rich friends that might buy Gadget and I a huge warehouse and studio for storing and creating shit. His garage is kind of full.

Dude! You guys are fucking hilarious. Take my gold card and set some shit up.

Dude! You guys are fucking hilarious. Take my gold card and set some shit up.

When I started Change The Topic, it was going to be some way for me to document my transition from a city trucker to whatever I was going to be. I still don’t know what that is, and I may never know.

I don’t even care.

I have made so many friends, because of this blog, that I will never be able to fully wrap my head around it. People that I truly like and care about. I may not get a chance to hang out with them as much as I’d like, but that doesn’t change anything. I see them on Facebook, Google+, and occasionally Twitter. They make me laugh, cry, and think, and when they post things about their struggles or triumphs, I feel that shit. I will be forever grateful for the connections I’ve made here.

This leads me to my next point, even though you probably didn’t think I had one.

I’m starting another blog.

I am keeping Change The Topic, because I love it, but I am only going to post nice and positive things on here. That way, I don’t need to ostracize anybody, and people can read nice, positive things if I ever write any. I will also be starting a blog that will be my grittier side. The side I lost. The part of me that exaggerates my sex drive, pot use, and partying for the sake of a laugh. The facet of my ego that will try to talk Scooter into wearing a thong while standing on the corner and selling weed. (Please?)

I really miss that, and I want to get back to it. If you are interested in checking that out, feel free to like the Facebook page and help me get that shit flanged up. I will be making a G+ page as well, but they are a little stickier, so I’ll wait until we have a name and a domain.

If you don’t have Facebook and want me to let you know when things are up and running, send me an email at birdman (at) changethetopic dot com, and I’ll put you on the list.

Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me,

Birdman

Dec 18

Where Did We Go Wrong?

wpid-mindofbirdman.jpg

A good friend posted a status on Facebook about the changes to school safety and restrictions since we were teenagers. It was more a question about us as a society, but mentioned how he was allowed to make a crossbow in shop class, and also transport it to and from school on the bus. He alludes to the fact that this would not fly in today’s world, and he wants to know what the hell happened to us to cause such a huge shift, and how we can reverse it.

Fair enough right?

When I was in high school, a kid from another school in town was making a meat tenderizing hammer in shop class. While he was minding his business at his locker, another kid started teasing him about who knows what. Turns out this was one too many teasings, because he clocked the asshole in the eye with the hammer he had just made.

Maybe not exactly like this one.

Maybe not exactly like it, but it was metal.

Is that the right way to handle a bully? Probably not, but it would sure get the point across. To me, anyhow.

Did it stop the other guy from teasing him again? Probably not; that guy was a fucking douchebag. I assume he still is, but I’d like to think that he’s changed.

Now the guy that did the hitting and I had some pretty good fights over the years. Probably because of me being mouthy, but I think it was more like neither of us took shit from people, including each other.

It was always hit and miss with us. I can’t even count the amount of scuffles we had, but I don’t remember one time that we told on each other. I remember after one fight; he smashed my window with his fist and I had to sit in the principal’s office the next day and tell everyone that I thought a bunch of kids were throwing snowballs and that one must have had a rock in it. I had to do this while sitting beside him; both of our faces and knuckles probably cut and bruised.

It never even occurred to me to throw him under the proverbial bus.

I guess it’s possible that it was him, or a bunch of guys like him, that brought about heightened school security and the beginning of humanity’s demise, but I doubt it.

The guy who got hit, on the other hand, was a spoiled brat. He acted like he was better than everyone else and was quite vocal about it. I really believe that he thought he could do no wrong. Even as a young adult he was a rotten prick.

One night, I was on a friendly date, (that means she wouldn’t have sex with me) and we went into an establishment owned by his family. He was drunk and obnoxious, as usual, and proceeded to sit at our table and start hitting on the girl I was with. When he saw the grimace on my face, he asked her what she was doing with an asshole like me.

I took offence to this, as I was wont to do back then, and told him to step outside. As we were on our way out to the beatdown, I was stopped by three older gentlemen who explained that they were regulars there, and that I should just leave him alone. They told me he was drunk, and it wasn’t his fault that he was being a complete dick.

I was pretty sure I could take any of them, one on one, but they made it clear that it wouldn’t be going down like that, so I allowed the waitress to put the drunken fuck in a cab and get him out of there. He didn’t lose his job, and was probably clapped on the back by his friends for putting that “skid” in his place. Probably as they stood around drinking Molson Brador and lighting their hash oil doobies with five dollar bills.

ID-10062097
Photo credit: David Castillo Dominici/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net

The problem was that this guy’s family never seemed to punish him for his behaviour. There were never any ramifications for his actions, for some reason. If there had been, I think things would have been much different, but you have to remember that it’s not just him. There are millions of people out there that think they can talk to people like they are somehow less deserving of respect for some reason. It might be their looks, their financial situation, their ancestry, or their intelligence. No matter what it is, they have the right to live their life without fear of being bullied. Unless they are Irish or something, then all bets are off.

Another thing that was mentioned in a comment was that the reason for the lack of morality in the world was the lack of God. I assume the person meant the Christian god, but I may have misread that.

As you may know, I don’t care what someone believes in, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone, and it isn’t pushed on others by way of the public school system or other secular places and events. Well, unless all religions are going to be taught equally, but what are the chances that will happen?

As for morality being linked with Christianity, or any religion, more than Atheism or Agnosticism? That’s bullshit, and anyone who knows non-believers and faithful alike, knows this. There is good and bad in every religion, race, country, and person. You should believe in whatever makes you feel good, and not because your family, friends, or a charismatic stranger says you should. Study up on everything and make an educated choice. Don’t ever feel that if you choose one or the other, that you will be more or less righteous. It just doesn’t work that way.

You are who you are. That doesn’t mean that you can’t better yourself, but it does mean that if you want the peace and love, you can have it. As much as you want to strive for, if you go about it the right way. It also means that you can go the other way if you want. It’s totally up to you.

I guess the question is whether you want to ruin people’s lives or enrich them?

Make the right choice for you, and for the love of whatever you believe in, pay attention to your kids. They need it more than you think.

Birdman

 

 

Dec 04

Gala Parté 2013

And Darrin!

And Darrin!

Well, Movember has come and gone, but that shouldn’t mean that you quit thinking about men’s cancers. They get people all year long, so  keep on top of it.

There, I’m done all of my harping and begging. We rang out the end of what has become my favourite month of the year, and we did it with style and grace. That means that I’m going to have to wing it until the time comes for Float Your Fanny Down The Ganny preparations. It also means that I have a few photos to show you. Some are like this.

This is excited she gets when she sees a razor in my hand.

This is how excited she gets when she sees a razor in my hand.

Or there was the one on the Brady’s bed before they got to the hotel.

Nothing like a good pillow hump.

Nothing like a good pillow hump. Yes, I got them both.

I just like to be the first to hump in a fresh hotel bed, that’s all.

Come on. With a mo like that, you know he's going to destroy that bed as soon as the room gets cleared.

Come on. With a mo like that, you know he’s going to destroy that bed as soon as the room gets cleared.

Soon we had the whole gang in to our little home away from home.

IMG_0557

Then Scooter and Homes brought me something to wear.

Too much teeth. I'm not good at being a gang banger, but I'm trying, Mo. Really I am.

Too much teeth and glass. I’m not good at being a vato, but I’m trying, Mo. Really I am.

Scooter, Gadget, Homes, and I had left the hotel first, and while we were in the cab, Homes passed me half a bottle of tequila.

“No, I’m okay.”, I said

“That’s not the answer I was looking for, Ese. I left the cap in the the room and we can’t take it in the bar.” was his reply.

“You can’t waste good tequila.” said I, and then the bottle made it’s rounds. Apparently Scooter and Gadget aren’t wasteful either.

Gadget dressed up too. Looks like it's working for him.

Gadget dressed up too. Looks like it’s working for him.

Remember this from last year? Well, remember it for later.

Remember this from last year’s party? No? Well, remember it for later.

Homes and Scooter buggered off somewhere after they got their free beer tickets. Gadget and I cruised the strip looking for action and we found it at the Sher-Wood booth.

He, of course, kicked my ass, but we both got a free mini stick out of the deal, so it was all good. There was also the Harley booth.

He likes to touch my belly sometimes.

He likes to touch my belly sometimes. It’s because I’m gangsta.

We made a flip book thing too, but it would be hard to show here. Also, I don’t have it.

Dwayne Gretzky played again. They were awesome again. Scooter showed back up and danced.

With the devil!

Or maybe it's Rich Uncle Pennybags from Monopoly.

Or maybe it’s Rich Uncle Pennybags from Monopoly, they’re very similar.

It was about this time that everyone else showed up. Mrs. Birdman started a game with Firecracker where you had to get your picture taken with as many people as possible, but she promptly forgot about it because of her amnesia juice. That juice also made her forget to check her phone while she stood in the crowd and watched the band. Not that I was trying to find her. Much.

Firecracker, on the other hand, did not forget that shit. I would need three posts just to show the dedication that this spunky little ginger showed at that party. I guess I’ll just post all of the photos on the Google+ page for whoever wants to see.

Cheers, Tweezle. You're not going to see much of her for the rest of the night.

Cheers, Tweezle. You’re not going to see much of her for the rest of the night.

(While you’re there, you might as well add us to your circles. We don’t bite… hard.)

There is one chain of events that transpired with The Centaur, Mrs. Brady, Firecracker, and the Coke man, that is too funny to not post. I wasn’t there, but Tweezle did a great job of capturing it’s entirety, so it feels like I was.

She probably thought it was a lead shank.

She probably thought it was a lead shank.

IMG-20131129-00151

So she has now let go and things start going downhill.

IMG-20131129-00152

But wait! The Coke man thought he had better take control of the situation.

IMG-20131129-00153

Don’t let go until his balls drop.

IMG-20131129-00154

Okay, you’re good, Now let go of that stud and go on about your business.

IMG-20131129-00155

Upsy daisy.

While these guys were clowning around, Dale Jr. and Danica were out making new friends.

I don't even want to know where this is going. Wait. Yes I do.

I don’t even want to know where this is going. Wait. Yes I do.

Do you like the way I painted it grey like an elephant's trunk?

Do you like the way I painted it grey like an elephant’s trunk?

Things started to slide after the band stopped, so Gadget and I loaded one cab full and went back in to round up the rest of the crew, but Firecracker would have none of it. I think we had a pants off dance off, because I remember dancing, then I remember wearing some black, lacy panties when I was back at the hotel. I am just guessing of course, but she claimed them, so I’d say I won.

While we were back inside, we decided that we needed a huge inflatable moustache.

It's the one that's obvious.

It’s the one that’s obvious.

The problem was that there was a security guard that was no help at all. He wouldn’t even lift me up so I could undo the ropes. He said I had to go and ask one of the Movember Canada staff.

I’ll find Emma. She seems awesome in her emails.

No dice, but I did meet her partner. She thought it was a great idea for us to steal the stache. She put me in touch with Dancy McGee, but she said that we could absolutely not steal that moustache. I believe she then got some more security on it and pointed me out as a possible culprit.

This left the front door almost wide open with three guards at the back door.

Hello, what feels like an 80 lb block of ice.

Hello, what feels like an 80 lb block of ice.

This will look so good on your lawn.

This will look so good on your lawn.

Tongues don't stick at +3°C

Some dude asked us if we wanted to go outside and do some ice. It wasn’t that good.

Rub a dub dub.

Rub a dub dub. What a pair of assholes we are.

We want to thank Appleton Estates for the delicious rum, ginger beer and cranberry drinks. You maybe shouldn’t have given out so many, but we’re glad that you did.

Oh, and If you were planning on using this sculpture again, you aren’t.

I woke up still drunk at what I thought was 5 or 6 AM and sat on the toilet eating Zantac and drinking water to cure my pounding headache. I then started investigating where the cold air was coming from. I looked in the shower. My memory started to come back and I decided that I should start melting it down so people could shower if they wanted to.

Apparently just having the door closed wasn’t very much soundproofing. I was startled by a beautiful face in the doorway telling me I was waking up everybody, and to go back to bed. I explained my logic in my trademark loud whisper and was told that it was still night and to shut off the shower and get the fuck back to bed.

I did.

IMG_0593

This was all that was left after Mr. Brady’s shower, so I’d say we did a good job of getting rid of the evidence. Well except for this blog post. And all the pictures on G+. Oh, and the eyewitnesses. Meh. What are you gonna do?

Thank you to all who contributed your money to this year’s Movember campaign, and to all of my brothers and sisters who donated their time and their souls to it; I am so proud of you. You restore my faith in humanity daily and it keeps me going. That and Mrs. Birdman’s sweet love.

Mo on, Mo Fos,

Birdman