Nov 04

Movember 4th The day of reckoning

Well, I guess the boss has spoken. I’m going with a cheesy, pencil thin moustache. Thank you to Darcy for the winning photo. I love looking at your pic because it’s soooo skeevy and dirty. I really wanted the “Zappa”, but as soon as Mrs. Birdman saw it, she put the kibosh on that shit. You can come by and get your free hugs whenever you’re in Colborne, or I can put them on layaway. Anyhow, here’s the beginnings of greatness.

The 4th of Movember. Nose wound is healing nicely, Found some dirt on my lip.

 

Before I go, I’ll get a professional pic done. I know a girl who’s pretty good with a camera, she’s easy but she’s not cheap.

Ladies, did you know that you should be checking your man’s testicles for abnormalities? It should be done at his convenience, and be done in a gentle, teasing manner. There should be some kissing of the nipples and neck, mixed with raspy breathing and telling him what a good boy he is. That is just so he doesn’t feel nervous about getting examined. While this is happening, you should get him to examine your breasts for lumps, you know, kill two birds with one stone. You might as well grab some lube and have a little butt sex while you’re getting each other all randy and shit. Now, I’m going to see how many randoms on the street I can get to examine my testicles. I hope it’s more than last time.(that was 0)

You gotta know when to hold ’em,

Birdman

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Nov 04

Well, it’s Friday

I don’t even know where to start. I will be leaving soon, but not as soon as I’d hoped. I guess I shouldn’t say that I hope to go sooner, because I don’t want to go at all. The problem is, that there will come a point where it isn’t worth it to go out at all. I would like to get 6 weeks in before coming home around Dec. 20th, but that means I leave now, and it’s not that cold out there yet. In a way, I hope that it doesn’t freeze in time, but that’s just my selfish side. I know I have to do this, and I do want to see my friends that I only get to briefly visit every year or so, but it’s so hard to think about.

Last night when I was tucking the girls in, T asked me about a couple here that broke up when the man moved away for work. I guess he only got home every couple months, and it was a permanent thing. I explained that sometimes it’s hard for people to live far apart for a long time. When I saw her face change I realized it was the wrong answer, and then she started getting sad and saying that she didn’t want me to go to BC. I tried to explain that I’ll be back in about a month and then one more time. Luckily her mother came in and diffused the situation by hugging and kissing them into a coma. It’s pretty hard right now, I don’t know how I’ll hold it together when it’s time to actually leave.

I keep thinking that a dream job is going to fall into my lap, but the harsh reality is that I’m going to have to work my bag off to get a job I enjoy love going to everyday. I know the job exists, I just have to find it and educate myself on how to do that job to the best of my ability. I keep coming back to radio in my head, because there are local stations, but I think anywhere that I can sit around and brainstorm ideas with people and troubleshoot. I also enjoy learning about new technology, so radio appeals in that aspect. The other thing is that I really enjoy writing this blog, and trying to think up new ways to entertain you folks, so if I could find a job that was local, I’d really enjoy that as well. It’s strange, but I’d rather do a job that I don’t care for as much, if it was close to home, over a great job that I’d have to move for. I’m home now, and I’m not moving again. Mrs. Birdman has her business here, the kids love it here, and so do I. Money isn’t everything, right? As long as I can keep making jokes on here, I should be able to keep my sanity in check.

I don’t know, maybe 40 will be too old to retrain, but I have to try because I’ve been putting it off for the last ten years. Once I got sick of long haul, I thought bush trucking would be the cat’s ass, and it was for a while. I then thought that I’d move home and drive local, because it wasn’t so bad, but I forgot how big the veins in my head could get. I used to love trucking, because of all the places you got to go, all of the people you got to meet and all of the duty-free booze and smokes, but the thing I’ve always loved the most is unexpected problems. A breakdown in the mountains with no cell service, and very few tools, a dead truck in -30C, or a refused shipment and no one answering phones anywhere. I guess I thrive on chaos. I really enjoy having to use my brain, but more importantly, finding out whether I did the right thing. I’m always worried that I won’t be adequate, and I need these things to prove that I haven’t lost too many brain cells over the years. Sometimes I’m right, and sometimes I’m a little bit south of right, but I always pull through, and I think I always will. I know that sounds cocky, and I guess I may be, a little, but I really pride myself on my problem-solving abilities. Of course I only have them in life or death situations, but that’s when I need them most.

So, long story short, I know I have to go, but I hope that I don’t ever have to go again. I know it’s possible that I will, I just hope I don’t. I love my new life, and I want to keep loving it. Yeah, I hear them screaming and fighting in the bedroom, but I don’t give a shit, I would rather hear that every night, over the guy in the next room that has a piss every hour and groans while hitting the middle of the bowl, so as to make the most possible noise in pissing history. Oh yeah, he exists, ask anyone who’s shared a washroom in camp. What about the guy who gets up every morning at three, stomps down to the kitchen for a coffee and a smoke, and then stomps back twenty minutes later, and somehow manages to cough really loud in front of your room. Yep, he’s there too, with his buddy that punches and kicks the 1/4 inch thick wall beside you while he sleeps.

Sufficed to say, I’m probably going to cry until I hit North Bay, but I am going to be ecstatic when I get back. The rewards far outweigh the work involved, or I wouldn’t be going. I’ve decided that they aren’t going to forget me when I’m away. I won’t let them. I’m going to send them videos and call them every day. Whether they like it or not, I’m going to make my presence known. I WILL NOT BE IGNORED. Well, sometimes I will be, but that’s just when I’m talking about buying Canadian.

England swings like a pendulum do,

Birdman

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Nov 03

It’s the 3rd of Movember already. Tomorrow is the final day to vote, and it looks like it’s a handlebar

That’s just sad. Handlebar is winning with two pitiful votes. Oh well, I guess it means more to me than to others. On a more serious note, because cancer isn’t serious enough, I watched that Judge William Adams video, and it totally sickens me. I cried and had to turn it off partway through. I am making it known publicly that I hope he gets prostate and skin cancer, but doesn’t die from it. I guess if there is a karma, I’m in for it, I shouldn’t say that kind of thing about my fellow man, but anyone who could beat someone, let alone their own child, like that, needs a reality check. I guess if karma is real, then he will get his, and I don’t have to worry about it.

I’m sorry for coming out against karma like this, but I figured the Christians needed a break from my disdain. I think next, I’ll probably attack Scientology, but I’ll need to educate myself on that subject first. Maybe I’ll nail the Jehovah’s Witness to the cross while I’m at it. Do you see what I’m doing here? I’m actually showing contempt, while promising more contempt at a later date. For all of my Christian, Scientologist and Jehovah friends; you know I love you, I just think that religion turns your brain into plasticine for the powers that be to mold. I may have said too much. This is supposed to be a frothy bit about prostate cancer, while I listen to “Echo Beach”.

Look ma, tiny hairs that are able to exfoliate a rhinocerous.

 

I haven’t been affected by prostate cancer, but I am afraid of it more than any of the others. I’m told that I am a low risk case, because I have an active sex life, and no history of it, but I still think I should be getting my prostate milked on a daily basis. From what I understand, that greatly reduces your risk and supposedly (or is it supposably?) feels fantastic. I guess I’ll find out when Mrs. Birdman gets home. If she turns out to be good at it, maybe she could hold a course for the other ladies. I hope she likes the case of nitrile gloves and lube that I got her for an early Christmas present. What? I think it’s a great gift. She won’t want her bare fingers in there, that’s unsanitary.

Lord I was born a ramblin’ man,

Birdman

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Nov 03

Therapy Thursday

Dear Birdman,

I have had a terrible itch in my groin area for weeks now. It is quite embarrassing since the itch gets overwhelming and I end up scratching myself in public. Or sometimes I try rubbing against a pole or another person for relief. The judge said I can’t do that anymore. Is there anything you can do to help me?

Yours truly,

Itchy Bush

Dear Itchy,

Your problem reminds me of all of the times I’ve caught crabs from impure women toilet seats in my younger days. What I do is scratch it until it’s raw and bleeding, and then pour rubbing alcohol all over the affected area. You may find the pain unbearable, so you should go out and steal half a dozen oxycodone from an injured relative, or if that isn’t possible, you’ll have to buy some from a dealer. Give me a call if that’s the case, and I’ll hook you up. I don’t know if that actually kills the little bastards, or if it’s the ensuing hospital stay and shaving, but you’ll be back to normal in a few weeks.

There might be a little dust on the bottle,

Birdman

 

 

 

Dear Itchy,

I am pretty sure you are the asshat that keeps sending me friend requests on Facebook. (how many ‘Itch EeBush’s can there be?). I’m going to make this short and sweet: You need to get yourself something for that nasty-ass situation you have brewing in your drawers.  I recommend Kwellada Shampoo and a more discerning approach to dating.

Living like a honey badger,

Mrs. Birdman

Dear Birdman,

My dog’s penis tastes bitter. What causes that?

Pink Pencil Ponderings

Dear Pink,

You need to feed a holistic diet, with one tablespoon of maple syrup mixed in with each feeding. I think you’ll find a much more pleasant taste, and a silkier texture. Enjoy.

Desperado, why don’t you come to your senses,

Birdman

 

 

 

OH FOR CHRIST’S SAKE…that’s it! I give up.

If we don’t get better questions for Therapy Thursdays, I am taking a permanent vacation. This is bullshit.

Thinking you all need a probation officer and better hygiene,

Mrs. Birdman

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Nov 02

The 2nd of Movember

I’m not very proud of my growth as of yet. I feel like a young boy, or girl for that matter. I hope the people don’t tease me terribly, because of my affliction. Jesus, I ate over a pound of steak last night, so that my body would have enough protein to sprout a little face bush, but then I woke up to this pitiful little stubble. Does anyone have any tips on growing a lush ‘stashe? Maybe if I drink a bunch of beer each day. That used to grow stubble fast when I was younger, or maybe it was because I was drunk for three days at a time. Either way, I had a five o’clock shadow by noon, and that’s what I need now. It’s almost ten, so I’ll be cracking into a case here soon. Stop by if you aren’t doing anything, I’ll just be drinking and putting the shed together. Hahaha, you thought I forgot about the shed, didn’t you? Well, Scotty took me to the Home Depot yesterday and found me a lovely little model, and it’s made in the USA, so at least the money isn’t going to China. Anyhow, check this shit out.

Movember 2nd. When is that wound going to heal?

 

I’ve had enough of this pussyfooting around. I want you to donate money to my page. I need affirmation, and this is how you can give it to me. I will have photos taken in all kinds of compromising positions for a $20 donation. Why won’t you help? Do you hate men, and secretly want us to die of nut cancer? Go here to have your way with me.

 

Testicular Cancer

Issue: The incidence of testicular cancer in western countries has increased steadily in the past 40-50 years. The etiology of testicular cancer is not well understood, but there is sufficient evidence to postulate a link with endocrine modulating substances.

Background: Testicular cancer is a rare cancer, with an age-adjusted incidence of 4.2/100,000 in Canada. This accounts for 1.1% of all malignant neoplasms in Canadian males. Despite the low overall incidence of testicular cancer, it is the most common malignancy among young men, 25-34 years old. Testicular cancer varies notably with race, with incidence rates about threefold higher in Caucasians compared to African Americans in the US.

Disease trends: The incidence rate of testicular cancer has been increasing since the middle of the 20th century in many western countries, including Canada, the United States, the Nordic Countries, and Britain. The trend has been especially rapid in eastern European countries such as Slovenia. Countries with a sufficiently long period of cancer registration, such as Denmark, document this trend back to the first half of the 20th century. Despite the increase in testicular cancer in many western countries, the age-adjusted incidence of testicular cancer is low in all populations of the world. The lowest rates have been observed in Asian populations, African Americans, and black populations in general. The incidence rate in Denmark is in the order of 8 per 100,000, while in Japan and China and in African Americans, the incidence rate is on the order of 1 per 100,000. While the increase in testicular cancer incidence is an important cause of morbidity in young males, testicular cancer is one of the most curable of all solid neoplasms. The five year survival rate has increased during the last 30 years from 63% to over 90%. The present case fatality rate is 10-15 percent, and even in metastatic cases, cure rates are as high as 80 percent.

Copied from emcom.ca

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