Sep 20

Things Might Get A Little Sketchy Now

If for any reason I can’t continue Mrs. Birdman will be filling in for me. Truth is that I’ve never taken morphine before, so I have no clue what will happen next. This Tramadol stuff is quite potent, and the morphine is a backup if this doesn’t work, so yeah. I am having a hard time keeping thoughts in my head, and stringing them up. My baby is so sweet. She just brought me homemade lemonade, oh my fuck that’s sour. I think she’s trying to kill me.

Mrs.Birdman (to-be) here…Birdman has officially narc’d out on Tramadol…I’m taking over the blog-diggiddy. He may be higher than a kite, but he still has enough of his faculties left to correct my syntax and grammar. (I do love that about him!).

Now my man is pretty clever, but yesterday he must have slipped a few IQ points. He took a doctor-prescribed medication without realizing it was a narcotic. I know, I know…you are probably thinking that you know every sweet narcotic that is available. My friends, you may not be aware of Birdman’s brand new pal, Tramadol.

 

T-Doll (my newly coined street-name for Tramadol), appears to be one sweet ride. So far the Birdman has enjoyed levitation (unconfirmed), super-sonic hearing (confirmed), and some pretty outrageous saliva production. I am cautiously optimistic about the salability of T-Doll on the local street-drug market, but I reserve my final judgement, pending any negative side effects. *wink*

According to Dr. Feelgood, the Birdman should be passing that bad boy in the next 4-7 days. Our plan here at the homestead, is to keep him in a drug-induced state of euphoria and perpetual munchies until the anxiously-awaited arrival of The Glorious Kidney Stone.

I’ll keep you posted Bird-Lovers,

Mrs. Birdman (to-be)

Ps. Leave the Birdman some love on the blog, kittens! Let him know what you want to talk about 🙂

Sep 18

I Was So Frigging Wrong

A bit of a handful

I thought a better way to get back at the carnies would be to assail them with both little girls and two of their friends. Four girls between 8 and 10 should be enough to drive them nuts right? I didn’t have a chance to notice, because I was constantly trying to keep track of the four of them. Also, it turns out that carnies don’t pay attention to the rules that are written on their signs, and will allow children that are three feet tall to go on a ride that has a 48″ minimum.

I guess I shouldn’t assume that they don’t care. It could be that they are unable to read words or string those words into sentences. Yeah, that makes a bit more sense now.

As we wandered the fairgrounds, looking for the next ride, a young voice cried out:  “Look, a girl with no shirt on!”

I craned my neck in all directions, brimming with excitement, only to realize that she was talking about the top half of a buxom blonde painted on the side of one of the carny booths. Her hair was strategically placed to cover her ample breasts, and her come hither smile was most certainly making me blush.

I said:  “It’s probably a mermaid.”

I mean really…who wants to start explaining to a ten year old that some of the workers in a traveling carnival might not be the purest of souls?

She replied:  “Oh yeah, because not all mermaids wear sea shell bras. Some of them can’t find enough sea shells.”

 

That got me thinking , maybe that’s the reason my old neighbour out west never wore a bra either. Seashells are probably very hard to come by when you live on the Alaska highway.

Another thing I have noticed is that the carnies are a harder looking bunch than they used to be, what with neck tattoos and piercing of all known extremities becoming so popular these days. I was actually a little frightened to put these children into the care of someone who looks like he might be a striker for the Hells Angels by night, and run the Tilt-a-Whirl by day. Actually, if the Angels ran the midway it would be a much tighter ship, and probably a lot easier to find weed.

Speaking of weed, it’s harvest season and if there is anyone who needs confirmation on how good their crop is, just drop a bag off to the old Birdman. I will smoke some and tell you what I think of it. I will then publish your name, strain and prices on my blog, along with all of your contact info. I’ll also let you in on a little secret… The bigger the bag, the more I’ll like it. 😉

You are all beautiful to me,

Birdman

Sep 15

I Love Date Night

wpid-mindofbirdman.jpg

I just don’t love how tired I am the next morning. I keep trying to knock it out of park like I’m twenty, but in reality I’m rounding forty, can rarely make it through a night without getting up to pee and I have an arthritic shoulder. I also don’t like that women peak so late in life, when men are starting to feel the abuse that their bodies have taken over the years. Had I known, I wouldn’t have done things like, but not limited to:

  • Jumping out of speeding watercraft
  • Seeing how many headbutts I could take before concussing (7)
  • Seeing how many girls I could kiss, without getting herpes (18)
  • Jumping off of assorted bridges, because Scooter did it.
  • Punching bouncers
  • Other various feats of strength

Of course, my male ego likes to make me think I’m worn out because I last so long and go at it with such adolescent enthusiasm that any mortal man would faint at the task, but I think if we ask Mrs. Birdman, we would learn differently. (Excuse me as I weep silently, while clutching at the last shreds of my manliness.)

 

Oh well, now that the kids are back to school, we can get back on schedule, which is date night every Wednesday, and on every other Thursday is the best day of all. (drumroll please) Wing/date night. Jesus, can life get any better than a carnivorous, beer fueled feeding frenzy, followed by seven minutes of blissful passion?

I don’t think so.
Thanks for being here for me,
Birdman

Sep 14

Susan Boyle NUDE!!!

Nah, I’m just kidding, I am a bit curious myself though. I bet she’s sporting a bush that could house a nest of fox squirrels or pack rats or something. Sounds like she’s got quite a set of lungs on her too, and we all know that that means. 😉

I’m kind of enjoying this blogging thing so far, it gives me something to do while I’m waiting around. Before this, I had to sit around pretending not to look at the receptionist’s ass and playing mindless games on the phone. I guess facebook took up a bit of time as well, but that was mostly boredom. I would just flip through, hoping to find some old girlfriend who dumped me for some hot guy that didn’t make her pay for everything or bang her sister. Then I creep her profile, hoping to find even a hint of misery. Then I’d pinch my nipples really hard as punishment for being such a spiteful douchebag.

 

I love you,
Birdman

Sep 14

Learning To Blog

I’m sorry about the way I write, but this is how I think. I’ve been told all through school that I’m all over the place and need to focus, but it’s not that easy for me. I want to self diagnose ADD, or something, but that’s mainly so I could score some Ritalin. The problem with self diagnosing, is the prescription. The lady at the pharmacy here is pretty savvy and constantly thwarts my efforts.

Next I’m going to figure out what the category and tag features do on here, but that will have to wait until I get home from work tonight. The WordPress app for Android can only do so much, and I’ve found that no matter how much I yell and throw it, it just won’t read my mind.

As for my job, I’ve (we’ve) made the decision to quit and head back to the oilpatch for the winter. This will afford me the time I’ll need to see if I want to pursue a career in radio, which is something that really interests me. It’s going to be pretty tough, being away from my family for so long, but I’ve done it before, and we can clear up a lot of debt. It’s pretty nice to have that option these days, with the economy the way it is. I’m hoping to go out for a month or so, come home for the holidays and then back out for another month or so.

It’s a camp job, so all my lodging and meals are covered. The other nice thing about camp is that the ether bunny stops by every few nights for a little sumpin sumpin. I think I’ll put a sign on my door this year, to only use half the amount of ether as last year, so I can be at least partially awake. It might help with that cottonmouth feeling as well. I feel a bit picky asking, because although it’s nice to know you are getting laid on a regular basis, I’m not even sure that I like receiving anal.

I was going to wait to tell you this, but sometimes I say inappropriate things. I’ll let you decide what’s real and what’s fiction.

Hope to see you tomorrow,

Birdman