Jan 02

Of New Year’s Eve, Shenanigans, And Fresh Ink

This is mostly going to be a picture and video post, because that’s how I feel.

I tried a couple of new kinds of beer last night, and one of them was not too bad, It was called Winter Ale, by Great Lakes Brewery, the other one was actually quite bad, it was called Winter Beard and it was chocolate flavoured. I tried a whole bunch of shots of different things, and some were good. Some others were not so good. Actually, the only one I wasn’t fond of was the Chinese tequila, and I guess the Sauza as well. I like tequila if there’s lemon and salt, but just drinking that shit straight isn’t in the top ten of my favourite boozes. Gadget brought the Mamajuana, and I did like that stuff, but everyone else seemed to think it wasn’t worth even drinking. I got that impression when people ran away as we poured it. You can see the video of  that coming up next.

As you might have guessed, we spent some time at the bar…

Gadget brought the good stuff

She had some of everything

There was some dancing…

Fuck you Cooper, I’m leading

Everybody say “Whoop, there it is”

It’s not a mistletoe Wayne

 

 

There were photo shoots…

 

Mmmmm, drunk chicks

Our hosts were terribly happy

 

 

 

 

 

 

So sparkly, they must be in Vegas, right?

And more photo shoots…

 

Fuck he’s handsome

He’s getting lucky after, you can tell by that smile

 

 

 

 

They’re both disgustingly tall

There were sexy photo shoots…

 

Seriously Gadget, am I the only one into this?

Gadget’s in almost all the sexy photos

 

 

 

 

 

Looks like I left a little too early

Who doesn’t love drunk chicks kissing?

This is how wife swapping starts. Shouldn’t they be smiling a lot more than that?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Maybe I’m biased, but this is giving me wood

And there was just plain old craziness…

We’re not short, he’s freakishly tall

 

I think you need smaller frames, and maybe a bit more squareness

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hey, is that the new Sanchez?

Things got a little freaky, but we don’t judge

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That is by no means the end of it. We still have to see the tats that were so tastefully done. Here’s some of Mrs. Birdman’s handiwork…

That’s dead on, if you ask me.

Who doesn’t love a mock nipple piercing?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And now for Gadget’s artsy drawings. (editor’s note: I was asked to please not show the one on my chest, because of how vile and disgusting it was, so I’m not going to. As much as I believe in freedom of expression, I believe in safe and happy cocooning more.) He is definitely on his way to becoming one of Wicklow’s foremost tattoo artists, as you can tell by these…

Yep, the other one is way worse

I feel that this is his masterpiece.

I should probably mention that Gadget was going to do an 8 ball on my neck, and a couple of teardrops under my eyes, but the fun police jumped in and put a soul crushing stop to our festive spirits.

This is what the fun police look like. Beware.

Now the final bit of archived footage from the party, unless someone else sends some in, is coming up next. We couldn’t put all of the photos up here, but they will all be on the Facebook page, so if you check it out, you’ll see the infamous tattoo, that will never be seen on this blog.

Well, there’s not much left to tell you all. We hope that 2012 will be better than 2011, and not because 2011 wasn’t amazing, because it was, but I’m greedy and I want more health and happiness in for all of my friends. I can honestly say that we think of you as our friends (the ones who interact with us, anyhow), and I don’t think that it cheapens a friendship if we’ve never physically met. We appreciate every single one of you that reads this blog, and we hope you will keep reading, and following Chin, Mrs. Birdman, and myself through this crazy, exciting, and fun thing that we call life. we raise our glasses to you, and hope for the best in the coming year, and years for each and every one of you.

We would have put a picture of Chin in here, but he hasn’t supplied us with any.

 

We’ll take a cup o’ kindness yet for auld lang syne,

Birdman and Mrs. Birdman

P.S. I want to thank my soul partner for making this blog possible. If it weren’t for her, it would be nothing but cell phone pics and my words. I think that we can all agree, that it’s not enough to keep you riveted to your computer screen, as you most likely are every day. She knows that I appreciate everything that she does, but I think that the readers should know that she puts as much of her soul into this blog as I do, and a hell of a lot more talent. So if you see her out and about, maybe you could give her a pat on the back, and as much money as you have on your person, because she deserves it, and we would like to retire soon.

 

Oct 30

Of meetings, good food and better friends

Well, I’m not in fine writing form this morning, but I thought I would let you all know that if Gadget says he needs to see you in his office downstairs for a meeting, DO NOT GO. It’s a trap, and not a very clever one either. I’m a little fuzzy on details, but I think I was molested by Cleopatra, a breathalyzer, Inspector Gadget and Penny. I ate a lot of delicious treats, and I think we finally got rid of all traces of Sour Puss and Tequila Rose from the basement office.We also want to thank Lucille Ball and the surgical team for making sure we were transported safely to and from the party. You guys rock our world.

I hope that the freaky McDonald’s clown is able to stop by the house and check in on Mrs. Birdman while I’m gone, because she might need someone to do some odd jobs around the house, and clowns seem to be pretty handy with that type of thing. I am glad to have so many good friends and neighbours that take the time to invite us to events and make us feel welcome wherever we go. We truly know how lucky we are, because it’s pretty rare to enjoy everybody’s company when you go out. Most parties you go to, there’s always the assholes that everyone sidesteps and avoid like the plague. I have actually locked myself in the can with a six pack before, because it’s more exciting than talking to some people, but not with the friends we have. I do believe every last one of them is interesting and funny, but I’m also drunk when I’m around these magnificent folk, so take that with a grain of salt.

Hey, remember that time I did a Jello shot with the gummi worm and almost choked to death? That was last night. The sad thing is, I forgot about it, and twenty minutes later was choking down another one. Jesus, I’m damn near forty years old, why the hell am I acting like a teenager? I thought I had grown out of the shooter phase many moons ago. I guess it’s the crowd, because when I get around this bunch, I feel like partying like a not very well hung porn star. It’s pretty nice to be around people that make you feel at ease enough to get that hammered, you just don’t have to worry about shit.

So thank you all, and I say that from my old lady, my best man, and my own self, for the fun-filled night and for the friendship. It’s never taken for granted. We have to go now. I got an invite to the $10000 dream prize party, and I need to wash the blood off my hands.

You can’t rollerskate in a buffalo herd,

Birdman

Oct 28

Friends

I was thinking about that today while reading a message from an American friend that I’ve never met. Weird huh? I’ve never met Seth, but I still consider him my friend. I know we’ve talked a lot and bugged each other about who lives in the better country (it’s me), but I’ve never shook his hand, or sat down to a fridge full of [easyazon_link identifier=”B001BCFUBU” locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]beer[/easyazon_link] with him. I’m going to invite him to my wedding, if he’s able to come, but then I wonder if that’s crazy too. I guess we’ll find out next summer, along with Dennis and Scott. I met both of them at work and I’ve gotten so that I go to the board in the morning to see if I get to go there for a pickup. I don’t know if it’s a familiarity thing, but I’ve grown to like the assholes. Okay, I guess I like them because they’re good guys, and maybe just a little bit sexy.

I then started thinking about a lot of my friends, and how we became friends. There are some crazy stories, with fighting, [easyazon_link identifier=”0544538544″ locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]booze[/easyazon_link], and other [easyazon_link identifier=”B001AULY90″ locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]illicit substances[/easyazon_link] at the forefront of most of them. There are also a lot of stories that I don’t remember the beginning to. I wonder if any of you remember how you met me, or did I just show up and not leave? Some of my really good friends have no recollection of how we met, but some remember every detail like it was yesterday.

I remember how I met my best man, and best male friend, Joe. He was sitting in my seat on the school bus, because I was a hoodlum and had to sit directly behind the bus driver. It was his first day of school after moving here from Florida and it was grade seven. It turned out that he didn’t know anyone, and I lived close, so we became friends. We’ve done a pile of crazy shit together, and if the fun police would leave us to our ways, we’d probably do a pile more. We drifted apart while he was living out west, and then while I was, but there was never a time that I wouldn’t have done what I could to help him out, and I guess he probably feels the same way, but I’ve never asked.

He’s also the guy I’d trust the most with my best interests. I know that’s a strange term, but how else do you sum up: [easyazon_link identifier=”B00QM8IBF0″ locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]car[/easyazon_link], [easyazon_link identifier=”B008PSP5SG” locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]pets[/easyazon_link], plans of evil, money, [easyazon_link identifier=”B006FHMD02″ locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]guns[/easyazon_link], [easyazon_link identifier=”B0002UP01M” locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]horses[/easyazon_link], [easyazon_link identifier=”B005CFAG9S” locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]dead hookers[/easyazon_link], rides to the airport, [easyazon_link identifier=”B001PIDIB4″ locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]fake passports[/easyazon_link], family and my life into two words? I don’t think I can trust him, I know I can. Over the past twenty eight years he’s proven he is loyal friend, not only to me, but to others as well. I’m still trying to get info out of him from shit that happened in high school.

He has a true heart and a mischievous soul, so it’s only right that we ended up as homies. It’s also pretty handy that my sweet baby likes him too, but I guess that we have very similar personalities, so we should like the same type of people. I know that I like her friends. The ones I’ve met so far, anyways.

Back to my pal Joey now. He also loves his mom, but why wouldn’t he? She’s one of the sweetest and funniest ladies I know, and believe you me, I know a few. He has two, slightly hyper, but extremely sweet dogs, that he takes very good care of. He plans his days and evenings around them, and that’s how it should be.

One story that I do remember is when Joe, Steve and I were out in Cold Beer. Steve is Joe’s cousin, another friend that you’ll hear about later, and Cold Beer was a rowboat that someone else owned. The three of us grabbed a bunch of [easyazon_link identifier=”B00BHAVFPQ” locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]bottle rockets[/easyazon_link], a steel tube, a lighter and a bailing bucket, and set off to sea. We thought we’d try fishing with the bottle rockets, because they would shoot under water and explode like a mini depth charge. We got out onto the lake, and while Steve was getting the tube ready, I was getting ready to stuff a rocket in and light it. I could hear a hissing, and giggling, and when I turned to look, Joey had lit the whole bouquet of fireworks that I was holding in my hand. I threw them up in the air, not thinking that now they can fly around all willy-nilly, and they did. I started to freak out and tried to fight Joey, Steve was trying to figure out what the hell was going on, and Joe was laughing his ass off, yelling for me to “Chill, just chill”. Being from the sticks, I hadn’t heard the term “chill” before and started yelling back, “What the fuck does chill mean? We had a grand laugh, and no one lost the meat off their hand. Yet.

I guess I will sum it all up by saying that I have some really amazing friends, that I’ve accumulated over the course of my life, but Joey, you are the one I come to when the chips are down and I need to vent. You never judge me, and you always know the ways to cheer me up. (Yes one does involve guzzling a gallon of milk.) I will be proud to have you stand next to me as I get married to my best friend, and even prouder to have you choose the strippers and blow for the [easyazon_link identifier=”B00IXD2LJY” locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]bachelor party[/easyazon_link]. We all know that you have excellent taste in stripper flesh, and you drive a hard bargain. Cheers to you buddy, I am forever at your service.

Now back to Mrs. Birdman’s friends. Some were mutual friends, but many I hadn’t met yet. I honestly can’t think of one that I don’t like, and there are some that I just adore. There’s one lovely lady in particular, that works at a place where we pick up, and I now go in and visit whenever I’m there. Well, as long as it’s after 9:30. It’s a pretty sweet deal when you can double your friend base and also reconnect with lots of old friends that you hadn’t talked to for years. It’s also nice to have all kinds of sexy ladies stopping by for visits and whatnot. Yeah, I wish whatnot meant threesomes too, but alas, I shall have to keep dreaming. I figure that I’ve been a good person, so karma should take care of the threesome thing later, right? Seriously, before senility sets in would be nice.

[easyazon_link identifier=”B000WLVBCS” locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]Imma get get get get you drunk[/easyazon_link],

Birdman

 

Oct 02

Contrary to what I’ve said, sometimes drinking is not cool

I thought that being a day of rest, I’d just tell a story about when I lived in Hudson’s Hope, BC (I suggest you Google that shit, if you don’t already know about it). I ended up there after I had become newly single, and really wanted nothing to do with women ever again. It’s a gorgeous little mountain town at the start of the Peace River, and home of the W.A.C. Bennett and Peace Canyon Dams. My friend Aaron lives in HH, and he and his wife are raising a beautiful family there. I had originally agreed to house and dog sit for them one spring when they went on vacation, because I couldn’t have dogs in the apartment and I was done work for the winter, so what the hell.

While I was there I ended up getting a job, making some great friends and almost getting my ass killed. I liked it a lot and I stayed until the snow flew, not that that means much when you’re in the mountains. When I got there in April I stayed with Aaron and Lannie for a bit, rented a trailer with a guy from work, lived in an old camper that I had bought for a grand and eventually moved in with a great couple that I rented a room from.  I mostly ate at Freddy’s Deli, On The Rim or Julie’s cafe, but I don’t think she has it anymore. It’s too bad, because she had superb home cooked soups, sandwiches and a great selection of unique drinks. The town is full of very talented people that make some really cool things. Jim Todd crafted some of the nicest longbows I’ve ever seen or drawn. The farmer’s market was full of home baking, fruits and veggies, honey, soap and crafts, all of which are made by local people. Truly worth jogging off the beaten path if you are traveling up the Alaska or Hart Highways.

Now onto a completely pointless drinking story… I believe it was around the first part of May that Aaron and I had eaten a meal of makeshift, homemade Chinese food, that we didn’t have the proper ingredients for. We then headed over to a buddy’s cabin for a visit with a bottle of vodka, a jug of Clamato and all the trimmings. It was your average visit, five guys sitting around drinking, smacking golf balls into the river, throwing sticks to the dog, eventually building a fire, and by around midnight we were riding the dirt bike with no headlight up and down the road. Don’t worry, it was safe, the headlights of oncoming cars gave us enough illumination to get over on the shoulder and out of harm’s way. My belly was starting to feel that I shouldn’t drink anymore, but I’m not one for wasting, so I finished my last caeser and climbed into the truck. I should mention that at this point in my life, I was not a huge drinker. This was the first time I’d been drunk in probably seven or eight years.

The reason for my not drinking much was a night out with Aaron several years earlier, after a good stint in camp. I either overindulged in the whiskey and tequila that night or someone slipped me some sort of pill that turned me into a complete asshole. Apparently I decided it was up to me to defend the slutty waitress’ honour, seeing as it was her night off and I think she was letting us do shots out of her tits. Good reason to walk around trying to fight the old perverts (like I was any different) that were grabbing her ass, right?  I guess I then got in a cab and not only puked all over the roof, but the interior as well.  I’m assuming he took me home because when the phone rang the next morning, I found it next to me on the bed, you know, right next to the pile of puke near the pillow.

I answered the phone, and it was my friend from work that had booked me a chiropractor appointment for that day. He wondered why I didn’t show up to my eleven o’clock session and was letting me know that they would see me if I went there now. I found my glasses in the aforementioned pile, rinsed them off, assessed the damage from when I obviously tore my shelving unit down and called a cab. I had to catch a plane later to go home for Christmas, so I needed to get my back fixed up now. Of course it was the same cabbie that took me home the night before, and he was quite surprised that I was still alive. He wasn’t too pissed off because I had given him a hundred bucks to clean up the cab and drive me home.

By the time we hit the third chiropractor office, we had found the right one. I went in, paid the receptionist and went to the washroom because I was feeling a little green. When I woke up, she was banging on the door to see if I was ok, I had no shirt on and there was a trail of bile leading from my head to the toilet. I don’t remember stripping down, but the tile floor was so nice and cool that I wished I had taken my pants off as well. I didn’t want to get up, but I knew they were waiting for me so they could close the shop up for the holidays. When the bone cracker saw me he wasn’t going to work on me because I guess I looked as bad as I felt, but after some persuasion, he fixed me up. A couple more dry-heaves and I started to walk home.

Ok, what the hell was I talking about before? Oh right, I was drinking caesers and I got dropped off at the house. I stepped onto the sidewalk, walked three steps and barfed a spray of red chicken balls out into the night as Aaron drove away, neither of us suspecting that what would happen the next day would change our outlook on life.

I hope you mofos like cliffhangers,

Birdman

Find Part 2 here.

Sep 16

Wing Night Is Not For The Weak Of Heart, Or Stomach

I think my body tried to explain something to me last night, as I was cramming the second pound of wings along with the second pint into my maw.

I, of course, paid it no heed. I mean what the hell does it know? I’m the brains of this here operation, and I’m not taking orders from some bloated, dough-like bag of guts that thinks one pound is enough. I’m a man, and no one is going to tell me what to do. Right? Who’s with me fellas?

Just to show it who’s wearing the pants, I figured I’d DQ something different, and tried to stuff a chocolate dipped cone in for dessert, which is probably what started the fight. Needless to say, I overdosed on Zantac and was apologizing profusely to my rotund, but extremely wise body in between meat dreams.

I’m sure this weekend will result in me getting some pictures on this here internet thingy. Any requests? I’m not too frightened of copyright infringement, so pick something good. Like really, what can they possibly do to me?1)famous last words

It’s also my stepdad day with the girls tomorrow. I’m giving them the choice of either the movies, the fall fair or Chapters. I hope they pick the fair, but I’m sure they will go for the fucking bookstore. Why did I have to fall in love with a girl that has smart kids that want to read and shit? I guess it’ll pay off in the end, but I’m really looking forward to some taffy and making fun of the dirty carnies. Oh how I hate the carnies, with their brown teeth, mullets and carefree, gypsy lifestyle.

Make sure you whip your hair,

Birdman

P.S. Did you notice I put a picture up?

Awesome footnotes   [ + ]

1. famous last words