Sep 23

I May Have Jumped The Gun

Birdman

I woke up this morning feeling like I had been trampled by a herd of Woodland Caribou. I guess I got feeling a little too rambunctious and invincible at the thought of finally being rid of the stone. I have slept and lounged around all day, and barely had enough energy to type this blog entry up.

I’m back to work tomorrow, so I guess it’s good to rest. What the hell am I saying? I shouldn’t be feeling this old yet. I’m not even forty for the love of Pete. Wait, am I forty now? No, I’m pretty sure I’m thirty nine still.

Holy shit, time is starting to gain ground on me, and I don’t like it. Two weeks ago I was riding my bicycle with my brother on what we thought was the longest bike ride taken by man. We got to pack a lunch, and ride to the gravel pit, where we set up camp and ate our sandwiches, hand picked apples and cookies. We had a wineskin full of Freshie and a few survival tools in the backpack (I think there was a compass and a jackknife). We were knights on our hard journey, and no one could have told us that four miles could easily be cycled in an hour or so. Okay, maybe that wasn’t two weeks ago, but it certainly couldn’t be have been thirty years, could it?

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Every once in a while I’ll notice it in the mirror. The lines, age spots, tired eyes, etc… I wonder what we do it all for? Is this what life was intended to be like for the human race? I have a hard time believing that from the dawn of existence, (I’ll let you all figure out what that means) we were meant to work our asses off, just to be able to possess some “things”. I love Thoreau’s outlook on life from the shores of Walden Pond. He realized that there is more to life than keeping up appearances and slaving your life away for someone else. He wanted to live his life deliberately, and so he did.

There is a life to live out there, and we shouldn’t go to the grave with any regrets, so call your brother up. Ask him if he wants to go for a ride or a beer and talk about how you miss those days. Maybe that gravel pit is still there, or the offspring of that apple tree. Eat a couple of apples while you throw rocks at nothing and think back to simpler times. Cherish these moments, because you can, and because you never know if you’ll get the chance.

Enjoy what life has to offer my friends,

Birdman

P.S. Don’t have too many beer when you get together. There are few things worse than staving drunk assholes, crying about how they need to spend more time together, and vomiting beer mixed with sour apple chunks.

Sep 17

Carnies Beware!

The girls chose the fair, and they’re feeling ornery. I dare any dirty hawker to tell T that she’s not tall enough for their ride today. The child scares me sometimes, when she gets that look in her eyes like she just ate a can of fury.

I can picture the mayhem now, and it pleases me, because I love keeping carnies on their toes. You just know those vermin are rising from a drug/alcohol induced slumber and can’t really handle shit like a real person. I want to see kids puking in the seats of the Teacups and the Strawberries by 11:00, and if someone could shit themselves on the Gravitron before noon, that would be spectacular.

That’s when the bastards start coming out of their meth haze and start the harassment of the passersby. I like it when they try to goad me into playing by insinuating that I can’t win at their game. I usually counter with “Yeah? Well at least I win at life.”,  then I strut away laughing maniacally towards the street meat and deep fried Mars bars.

Sweet baby Jebus in a manger, I love those five dollar bundles of ecstasy, sooo rich with nutrition. I’m kind of wanting to try the deep fried Coke too, but I don’t think it’s made it to the southern Ontario fair circuit yet. I do know that the tooth cracking pull taffy is there, and that’s good enough for this hillbilly.

I can smell them from here.

Take the high road,

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