Sep 16

So We Did A Bit Of Timekeeping

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My good buddy Gadget asked me to come and hang with him while he fulfilled his fatherly duty of volunteering at The Mullet’s hockey tournament this weekend. We were going to be timekeeping a couple of games so that they wouldn’t have to pay people to do it.

I guess it’s to help keep costs down, because HOCKEY IS A FUCKING EXPENSIVE SPORT TO PUT YOUR KIDS IN.

Did I mention that the tournament started on Friday.

Yes, Friday. The last day in the school week.

‘That’s okay, Birdman. It’s good to get an early jump on the weekend, so it’s no big deal to start a tournament on the Friday night.’

No it’s not okay. This tournament started on Friday morning. This means that the kids have to leave school and at least one parent has to book out of work that day. Maybe your kid is homeschooled and you are an Amway distributor*, so it’s no big deal for you to whip the little bastard over to the rink for his 10:00 AM game, but most of the parents I know had to leave work for several hours or the whole day because of this.

* – Can you grab me a box of that awesome laundry detergent that you brainwashed fuckers sell? It’s the shit.

Anyhow, I go to the game on Friday night to give moral support to my buddy, when I realised that it was going to take two of us to do this job. Mainly because I had never seen one of these boxes before, and Gadget had just been shown it a bit earlier in the day.

I got the hint that he may have really needed a bit of help when he said “So, you wanna be the stop/go guy?”

“Nah, I’ll just watch. I don’t know anything about this.”

“So you are going to be the stop/go guy?” He had a hopeful look on his face.

“What do I have to do?”

“You hit stop/go when you hear the whistle and then again when the ref drops the puck.”

“That seems easy. Okay, I’ll do it.”

“It’s not easy. If you aren’t paying attention, those hockey mom’s will tear you a new asshole for fucking up their kid’s game.”

I didn’t care, so I just shrugged and said “So? It’s not like they’re going pro or anything. “.

He gave me the “You will die, this day.” look and finished filling out his sheet and screwing up the period times on the scoreboard as we prepared for our maiden voyage.

Oh yeah, the scoreboard.

It’s rumoured to have cost $60000 and it looks like this.

60k? I Tim Hortons paid for it.

60k? I hope Tim Hortons paid for it.

Now the thing that gets me is that this amazing facility was built in 2011 and this is the technology that was chosen to run this wonderful scoreboard.

Really? They couldn't have come up with something a little more user friendly for the volunteer parents to handle?

Really? They couldn’t have come up with something a little more user friendly for the volunteer parents to handle?

Now Gadget is a fart smellersmart feller, so I know he can figure anything out if he’s given the proper amount of time, but when you have whistles blowing for penalties, refs yelling numbers and chopping away at their legs, and doors to open, it’s hard to read the fucking codes that they give you for each action.

It was something like:

Visitor penalty – Press and hold 911, rotate your pelvis 30° to the right, cup your scrotum and then press the symbol for magnesium.

Home goal – Put your left foot in, take your left foot out, put your left foot in, shake it all about, gently slide your thumb across the 1,2,and 3 buttons while you hold the time button down with your opposite ring finger.

These may or may not be true, but it was fun making up new dance moves while learning my new skill.

This brings me to the hockey moms and occasional dad.

We were lucky to do two games that had no players that we knew. I say “lucky” because that way I don’t have to out any of my friends as obnoxious, loud, and assholish parents that can’t just let the coach and their kid do the job that was appointed to them.

Most of the hollering was unintelligible from where we were, so I can just imagine what the kids on the ice could make out. The word I heard the most was “SHOOT!”, and I mentioned to Gadget that I wished the kids would shoot as soon as someone yelled it to them.

I mean the moment they yelled, and in whatever direction is easiest from where their stick is.

I should have went to school for graphic design.

I should have went to school for graphic design. Right?

How about you let the kid play the game. If he’s that fucking simple that he doesn’t know when he should shoot the goddamn puck, then you shouldn’t have bribed his coach into putting him in rep hockey. Instead, you should have saved your money for some Baileys to juice up your coffee and spent your time catching up with some fellow whores, while you watch your fatherless kids* play outside on a pond or someone’s backyard rink.

* – Hee hee. Sometimes I like to be an asshole. I know that you and your friends aren’t whores, and I happen to know that your kid has a dad, but you have to admit that this wound you up for a second. Didn’t it?

A bunch of friends with a couple of mittens for a net, a few old wooden sticks, and whatever ill-fitting pads they can find, will trump any fancy tournament that I can imagine. It’s when the kids have no pressure except to come in for a hot chocolate before they get frostbite, that makes for one of the greatest games that I’ve had the pleasure to watch.

Sometimes at night I can hear the ice crack, it sounds like thunder and it rips through my back,

Birdman

Sep 05

Therapy Thursday

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Dear Therapy Thursday:

I’m a recently single woman, just a shade over fifty, still kinda cute and a little out of shape, but still can do a cartwheel in a skirt. I’ve been out of circulation for such a long time and I am just getting back into the dating scene.  I want to know where to go to “get my walls plastered”, so to speak.  I’m not looking for a geezer and I don’t want some guy so young I can say, “Come to Grandma”.  I want to know what it takes to catch a man’s eye, hold his interests and make him smile.

Old Bag wants a new Trick

mindofbirdman

Dear Old Bag,

Have you thought of going to the nunnery and giving your life to the lord?

No? Well you should.

Seriously though, you need to explain what it is that you want. Is it a place to get your walls plastered, or do you want to capture the attention of a certain man? If it’s the walls plastered, then you will want to talk to Smarty about that, but if you are trying to snag a lunker you can talk to me.

Now, I suppose we should find out what sort of man you are looking for. This is essential if we are to know where to find him. I will list a few types and the necessary info. What you do with it is your business.

  1. The Simple Man – You should do yourself up like Reba, incorporate Duck Dynasty and/or Larry The Cable Guy quotes into your everyday speech patterns, and do a lot of browsing around at Bass Pro Shops or TSC.
  2. The Hipster – You should steal a homeless man’s clothes, recite slam poems, and hangout at small coffee shops or organic microbreweries. Bonus points if you haven’t brushed your hair or washed your armpits for two weeks.
  3. The Douchebag – You can wear anything, say anything, and go anywhere. If you have two or more tits and a heartbeat, these pricks will find you, lie to you, and most likely fuck you up for the next guy that comes along.
  4. The Nice Guy – You can wear anything, say anything, and go anywhere. If he really likes you, he’ll make it known to you. There won’t be any cheesy pickup lines, empty promises, or lies to get you into bed. You will have sex with him because it would seem a shame not to.
  5. The Nerd – Do a little cosplay, speak in elven, Klingon, or almost any code, and hang out at hobby shops, Comicon, or his mother’s basement.

These very useless points are my advice to you. It may seem like I didn’t take your question seriously, but I did. There is no set way to capture a man’s fancy, but if you just be yourself, you will find that whatever man finds and loves you, will love you for you, and will do it unconditionally. These are things I know to be true. It doesn’t matter if you are a sneaky bitch or a pure-hearted girl next door, if you are true to yourself, you’ll find someone who loves you. You just might not like who they are.

Birdman

SmartyTalks

Dear Bag:

Holy fuck, I will plaster, prime, and sand your walls for a minimal fee. I don’t care one iota if you even shower or brush your tooth; I will ride that fat ass of yours right to the wire if the price is right.

As for doing cartwheels in a skirt, if you are doing them without panties on, I will gladly return any fees that you may have incurred from past sexual liaisons with me or my colleague Puerto Rico Paulie. The catch is that you have to let us video record the cartwheels for a minimum of eighteen minutes. Some people just love that shit.

I’m not sure where you live, but some of the best places to get laid around here are liquor serving establishments. I know, it freaked me out too, but the consensus is in and it looks like walking into a bar and announcing that you are horny is the best way for a woman to get the sexual intercourse going for herself.

Another option is a crack house, but it’s mostly the risk that gets me off there. There’s just something magical about not knowing when somebody is going to snap or the cops are going to bust through the door.

You could also just get yourself the Fist of Adonis and beat the everloving piss out of your old leather mitt every night. That’s the gift that keeps on giving in my opinion.

fist-of-adonis1

I have no idea why you’d need different colours.

Smarty

Sep 04

Darien Lake Is Better Before The Kids Go Back To School

mindofbirdman

Yeah, their slew of college and university students go back to school in early August, and that’s when shit falls apart. There were sporadic, and full, ride closures, and it seemed like our one kid got short shrifted almost the whole time, because her two favourite rides were shut down for the entire trip. I suppose that’s why there are such good deals later in the season, but it was still kind of bummy.

Don’t get me wrong, I had a great time, but that was mostly around the fire where I met some new friends, and got to see a few old ones that I hadn’t really talked to in probably twenty years. It really was great in that respect, so I feel like the trip was pretty cool in that respect.

Ride wise, not so much.

I really don’t know why, but I suspect it has something to do with my partner in crime being absent from my riding side. There’s just something about my good buddy Gadget that makes me want to thoroughly enjoy an amusement park. I guess it’s just that amusement is in his jeans. I mean genes.

Next year I’m shooting for an adult trip to Cedar Point in Ohio. It looks like the greatest fucking thrill park in the world. I hope they have the option for buying a USB flash drive like they do at Darien Lake, because I will rock that shit like Wild T and the Spirit at the Ganny.

I can’t even imagine the rush you get on Top Thrill Dragster. Take a quick look at it and get back to me.

Seems pretty straightforward.

Seems pretty straightforward.

TopthrilldragsterYep. That says 120 mph. It also says 400 ft drop.

Gah.

Anyhow, I won’t go on about what might be, when I can be telling you about what was.

I truly had a great time hanging out with my new and old friends in the Darien Lake campground. There are some fun and funny motherfuckers in that gaggle of pals and I’m so glad I got to share a bit of space with them. Sadly we don’t have kids in hockey*, so I doubt we will get much chance to do fun shit with them for the next ten months, but I would be pretty happy if we got invited along some other time, even if it was just out for a drink and an orgy or something along those lines.

Oh yeah, and I got a snowblower for the tractor.

It wasn’t the snowblower I drove for hours to find, only to see that it wasn’t the one that was advertised on Craigslist.

Fuck you, Craig. I got lost and drove through a pretty ghetto area of Buffalo looking for that piece of shit that wasn’t even the one I needed. Why don’t you penalize people for falsely advertising shit on your website?

I ended up getting one from a guy on the way home, and other than having to drive around to get to a bank machine that would accept Canadian debit cards, everything went pretty smooth. Here it is in all of it’s glory.

Ain't she a beaut?

Ain’t she a beaut?

Another highlight to my week was Vanilla Thunder and the Dumpster Jumper trying to out New York us in the pronunciation of Irondequoit Dodge, North Tonawanda, and assorted offerings from J&E Grocery 139 Reynolds Street. It truly was a glorious exchange, and you should of seen the look of jealousy when I told them I had driven by Max Pies and Transitowne Chrysler Dodge Jeep. It was worth every bit of fear that I felt as it started getting dark and I still hadn’t got the bacon for breakfast.

Sooooo, I’ll leave it with you as to when you go to Darien Lake. If you want to hang out and don’t care too much about the rides, then by all means, take the good deal and go anytime after the first week of August. If you like the rides and attractions to be open a lot, then you might want to get there in June or July.

Just sayin’

I get high, I get high on speed, top fuel funny car’s the drug for me,

Birdman

Aug 26

Saturday Night’s All Right

mindofbirdman

My cousin Ryan got married on the weekend and I was invited to share in his special day. I should probably say our special day, because for a few reasons I felt really happy and uplifted there.

For one thing, one of my favourite people in the world was at the wedding, and she got to ring the final bell at her chemo clinic on Friday. When I read Steph’s post, I immediately got weepy with tears of happiness for her family. They were kind of like the tears I’m crying now, only more of them and I wasn’t lounging in my underwear.

photo credit - John Bevan

photo credit – John Bevan

Anyone who knows Judy will tell you that she is one of the brightest lights in any room. Her smile is so warm and inviting that you can’t help but want to give her a hug, and if you get the chance, I highly recommend it. She hugs from the heart, that one.

I really don’t remember her when I was a kid, but as soon as I started hanging out in town she made herself known to me. I can’t remember the exact moment, but there was probably a party going on and she most likely said something like ” Oh I know who you are, Chris Bird. I used to live down the street from your mother. I also know your father and if you’re anything like he was, you’d better stay away from my daughters.”

I instantly had a crush on her. Still do, to be quite honest, and I know I’m not the only one. She’s a beautiful soul that’s wrapped in a beautiful shell, and I’m so glad that she’s going to be making the world a better place for a while longer.

Here’s to you, Jude. Keep smiling and we’ll keep smiling with you.

Another reason I was glad to be there was because I got to sit with my Aunt Audrey. She’s my Nana’s sister, and has always been a big part of our lives. We used to go across the field from Nan’s house and through the back gate to visit and swim in their pool. This was before the strip mall and the Sir Sandford building was there, so there were no obstructions in our way. She was always home. I guess we wouldn’t have gone if she wasn’t, but Uncle Mike was usually out somewhere being busy. He was really good at finding things to do. There was the odd time that you’d catch him home at lunch or something and that was always a treat, because he was one of those really loud guys with all kinds of jokes. He would keep me laughing with all of his crazy sayings and facial expressions as he listened to the old bitties talking. He was one of those guys that had a huge heart that matched his voice, so when Ryan and Danielle lit a candle for him during their ceremony, it brought a big smile to my face.

Chips off the old block.

Chips off the old block.

I really miss seeing him around when I go over for a visit or drive by the lot where I’d sometimes find him working on something or the other.

Anyhow, let’s not think about that, because this was a night of happiness and celebration, and Uncle Mike sure wouldn’t want anybody sniffling over him. We should just be thankful that we knew him at all.

Oh, I got to also hang out with two beautiful ladies that landed me in shit with the local liquor authority when they lured me outside for some fresh air. The dude who is in charge of making sure people aren’t drinking out of the venue told us we had to take our drinks back inside. I’m glad he nailed us and not the forty other people that were scattered around the parking lot drinking beer out of their trunks. He had to have seen them, but I suppose we were the easy targets as we were standing at the door, and at least he could feel like he was doing his job.

Normally I’d be pissed at the interruption, but seeing as it didn’t seem to be going anywhere with those two ;), so I welcomed the chance to sit down again and wait for the beautiful bride and groom to return from their photos.

This is almost too cute.

This is almost too cute.

Giddy up!

Giddy up!

Here’s to you, Ryan and Danielle. Thanks for letting me share the night with you and your fine friends and family, and what I hope are many years to come. When you marry your best friend, you have already made it farther than most. Congratulations.

After the wedding, I had to skedaddle over to Mr. and Mrs. Brady’s wedding reception at Shifter’s place. Things were in full swing when I arrived, so I was able to blend seamlessly into the food table where I enjoyed the fruits of many people’s labour.

Now that's a pretty smile.

Would you look at that pretty smile.

I had a great time shooting the shit with Stella and her pole dancing friend, and by the time Dora and Swiper were having a pong off for “favours” (he won), I knew the night had better come to a close soon. I don’t know exactly how many jello shots I had for dessert, but I knew it was too many to drive, so we crashed in the trailer with Jack there to make sure nobody tried to sneak up on us. I guess someone must have tried at around 5:30, because he was sure barking and letting us know that he heard something.

They say that karma’s a bitch, but looking back at all of the friends I’ve made over the years, I’d say that that’s not always the case. Yet.

Blame it all on my roots, I showed up in boots, and ruined your black tie affair,

Birdman

 

Aug 20

Remember When We Raced Down The River?

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Well, I did a photo recount for Aiming Low and they published it! Yayyyyy for me.

What are you waiting for? Go click the link. Hurry. Make them glad to have hired me.

(Please don’t make me beg, because I will.)

On that note, we should have a splendid post for you later this week, because we received some Therapy Thursday questions/problems. I love it when our readers are fucked in the head. :P.

What I need from you guys is a direction to take. Who do you want to answer it? You can choose from Mrs. Birdman, with all of her common sense; Me, with a little bit of common sense; or Smarty, with almost zero common sense, and probably more vices than Nick Nolte. You can choose two, because, come on, we need some sort of balance here.

Leave a comment somewhere that I’ll find it, and I’ll see you bastards on Thursday.

Maybe. If I get chosen that is.

I want you (I want you), I need you (I need you), but there ain’t no way I’m ever gonna love you,

Birdman