May 05

Furry Fandom?

birdmandesk

So I went back and read the old post, How To Properly Shag A Sheep today. I still get a kick out of it, and the fact that roughly thirty people a day, every day read that post.

It’s the sole reason that some ad companies keep sending me emails. I hadn’t written in a year, but still consistently got over a thousand hits a month from all sorts of people.

Sadly, a lot of them got there by searching for phrases like, but not limited to:

  • how to fuck sheep
  • can man fuck sheep
  • sheep vagina
  • sex with sheep

When I got to the end of the post, I noticed a bunch of comments that I hadn’t seen before. One of them, I found kind of odd and disturbing.

kobidobi

Needless to say, I responded in anger at someone who is into zoophilia calling me wicked for being froward.1)adjective 1. (of a person) difficult to deal with; contrary. *I had to look it up.* I’m still trying to figure out what any of this has to do with the Lannisters.

So anyhow, I was on this pinhead’s profile and saw a bunch of posts and videos about people dressed as stuffed animals, and while I stared at the sheer volume of them, Mrs. B came to kiss me good night. I asked her to look at it and she said, “Yeah, they’re furries. It’s a real thing.”

I, of course, had to look into it. It’s real, with conventions and everything else. People have costumes that can cost more than $10000 and some of them have sex with the costumes on. Crazy, huh? I mean, I could understand it if they were Wookies or Storm Troopers, because everybody does that. Right?

Of course I’m kidding. I don’t care who you choose to have sex with, as long as they are into it too. Dress up as Toto, and have your partner be Dorothy for all I care. Hump the living shit out of her leg and leave a stain on the ruby slippers. Fly your freak flag high and proud, I say.

Do not have sex with real animals.

I know, I shouldn’t have to tell you that, but obviously it needs to be said. Go and look at the thread with the idiot and I. He seems to think that it’s okay to have sex with whatever you want, which brings me back to the furries.

the survey was replicated in 2008, and it found 17% of respondents reported zoophilia. The older lower results, which are even lower than estimated in the general population, were due to the methodology of questioning respondents face-to-face which led to social desirability bias.

That’s from the Furry Fandom Wikipedia page.

What the fuck is wrong with people? I know that Blue loves me more than probably anything2)with the exception of eating garbage and smelling things, but I’m certain that he does not want me to fuck him.

I’m absolutely sure of it.

I’ve had lots of female dogs over the years, and many had been in heat, but not once did any of them lift her tail and puff up her vagina to lure me in. Not one time.

Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t fuck her even if she was asking for it in concise English. I am not into it, but that’s just me. Call me a prude.

This kobidobidog seems to be okay with it though. Unless he’s a troll, but I don’t think so. There’s too much evidence of him being really into it.

So there it is. I’m going to let the dog out for a pee, and go curl up with my sweet mama. She’s been waiting for several hours.

Word to your moms,

Birdman

Awesome footnotes   [ + ]

1. adjective 1. (of a person) difficult to deal with; contrary. *I had to look it up.*
2. with the exception of eating garbage and smelling things
Apr 15

Well, I Guess I Need Therapy

wpid-mindofbirdman.jpg

Yeah, I know it’s been a while.

More than a year, I think.

I have been very busy with work, and when I did get some time off the last thing I was going to do was write. I had all of the best intentions, but you know how it is. I would rather power watch movies and stuff myself with junk food than actually do something productive.

I digress.

Last night I came to the conclusion that I’m going to need help to deal with my mental issues.

The first of my help was to delete Facebook, yet again, then after I get back out west, I am going to go to the mental health place and see about some form of counselling for depression/rage issues. There is really no need for me to get so angry with people that post shit on Facebook, whether I find it mildly annoying or completely abhorrent.

Last night someone on my Facebook feed posted a political post that I agreed with in principal, but when I started reading the comments, I was filled with this seething anger that is completely inexplicable. I mean, yeah, I know why it makes me angry, but not to that extent. When they responded to my childish, and condescending comment, I quite literally felt like inflicting physical and emotional pain on them.

What the fuck?

It’s not like me to not be able to debate in a cordial manner, but there I was with so many things to say, and only enough control to lash out, because I just realised that some people will never see my point.

Like I said, I can’t explain it, but it was there. I immediately unfriended them and started looking through my phone to figure out how to deactivate Facebook from it. I decided to go upstairs and use the computer to do it, when I saw a message asking about the defriending. I was trying to explain that I was going through some mental troubles and saying that it was a problem that I was going to get help for, but the political debate started again, and I just deactivated. It was seriously the only way that I could keep from exploding.

I tried to calm down and rationalize what was going through my head, but it was just so strong that I couldn’t focus on anything but the negative. That started to get me very frightened. I went to bed and Mrs. Birdman woke up and talked me through it, but it took a while. I could barely get words out of my mouth as fast as my mind was thinking them up, so it must have sounded like I had a speech impediment.

Luckily I have the best possible choice for my wife, and she was able to love me to a place where I could sort out my thoughts and get back to logically assessing the situation. I really am so fortunate to have her, and the rest of my family for support. They make it so easy to keep putting one foot ahead of the other.

So that’s where I am now. If you were going to get a hold of me on Facebook for anything, don’t bother. I’m not there, and if you ever see me back there for anything other than trying to swindle some Movember dollars from you, please kick my ass.

Birdman

P.S. I shut down the Reboot site, so I’m back to swearing on here.

May 05

I’m Going Back To The Land

mindofbirdman

But not in a good way.

Yet.

I’m heading back out west in the morning, and I’m not looking forward to it. I know that I never am, but this time it seems harder. Like having to cut off your own leg kind of harder.

I guess everything is harder when I think about it. Life just seems to get tougher as you get older. Better, but tougher nonetheless. Take the internet for example. It’s here to make our lives better, and in some ways it does. I couldn’t imagine not being able to look up anything that I wondered about at the drop of a hat. The knowledge that I gain from having that privilege is immense.

Then there is the part of the internet that isn’t quite as helpful, but helps to pass the time. You know, for when you are bored, sitting on the toilet, or maybe don’t feel like going out on a Friday night.

Social Media.

Sure it lets you keep up to date with who and what your friends are doing, what coffee and supper looks like, and how cute cats are, but it doesn’t take much to get addicted to it. I know. It happened to me.

As most of you probably know, I quit Facebook recently. Strangely enough, I don’t miss it. I miss a lot of the people, but some of the important ones have joined G+, and the ones who didn’t probably don’t need to get a hold of me anyhow.

No_twitter

I watched this yesterday. Two days after telling Mrs. Birdman that Twitter was getting the axe next. They have been ticking me off lately, what with them sending me notifications about who all of my followers are following. Like I care that they’ve all decided to follow Visa back, or whatever the case may be. Oh, and I have just figured out that there is no value in it for me. Anyhow, this really hit home.

It got me thinking about a lot of things, and one was that I need to stop wasting time online. There’s life out there, and procrastinating with my face tanned from the glow of my phone screen isn’t helping anything. I like information, and I need to start using the internet for what it was made for, which I’m certain isn’t trading cat photos and masturbation.

I need to start using the few years that I have left to do things.

Big things.

Important things.

Things like growing food, creating, and enjoying my time with friends and loved ones, which I suppose are one in the same. I love my family, and shouldn’t be spending my time socking away as many hours as I can work, so that I can come home and be depressed about either having no money, or having to leave the love of my life to go back to work in an industry that I only partially agree with.

For twenty some odd years, I have been thinking, wishing, and dreaming about buying a piece of property for cash and building an earthship home on it. Granted, that would take a lot more money than we have, so I guess we’ll have to just keep on working and dreaming. Dreaming of the day where I can get up in the morning, collect the eggs, move the chicken house over to some fresh grass, and empty the compost toilet.

A lot of people don’t understand the appeal of it, but I know that there are a lot that do, so I know I’m not alone. As I was researching I came across this guy.

His videos were interesting, especially this one. I can relate to his feelings, but not to his past. I find it interesting that so many people from such different walks of life are interested in the shift to more simple living. There are doctors, lawyers, truckers, and probably any other occupation that you can think of that just want to get the hell out of the rat race and slow down to a snail’s pace. I think it’s got to be that people are stopping to think about what they’re doing and realizing that everything that they have been taught all of their life is a big load of BS.

If you get a chance, check out The Story of Stuff Project

If you get a chance, check out The Story of Stuff Project

Whatever the individual reasons are, I am very happy to see people figuring things out, even if it is such a tiny percentage. People can see that things need to change and they are effecting the change themselves. That makes my heart smile.

Anyhow, I should go crawl into bed with the most beautiful soul that a person could know, and see if I can get my feet warmed up. I’ve got a long day of travelling and feeding the corporate machines.

For now.

Birdman

Apr 08

I Love That Boy

wpid-mindofbirdman.jpg

Relax, I’m talking about my dog Blue.

Something I’ve been thinking about for a while now, is how he occasionally gets this worried look on his adorable face when I approach him. It’s not a frightened look, per se, but more like a “I hope the beating doesn’t hurt too bad.” kind of look. Oh, and he just stands there, not looking at me.

Sometimes he thinks he's a real boy.

Sometimes he thinks he’s a real boy. This isn’t the look.

When the hugging, playing, or whatever we’re doing starts, he takes a moment to compose himself, and I wonder what happened to him in his earlier years to make him like that.

Does it have something to do with why he doesn’t like beer bottles, fireworks, or handguns? I would imagine it does.

He is from North Carolina, after all.

I know he trusts me, because he shows me that every day, but that look always makes me feel bad for him. It’s just one of those pity feelings, like the feeling you get when someone you know gets hurt and never fully recovers.

Yeah, you’re happy that they are alive, but you can’t help wishing that you could go back in time and stop something from happening.

Mrs. Birdman assures me that he has a great life now, and that he appreciates and loves how well he has it. I think it’s true. I do know that it’s better than the gas chamber he was headed for, but I still get those pangs of sadness for him. I still feel like even though he’s gained a life; somewhere, sometime, he’s lost one. I hope he gets it back.

Don't worry boy. I won't tell your mom that your stinky, slimy toy touched her pillow.

Don’t worry boy. I won’t tell your mom that your stinky, slimy toy touched her pillow.

So yeah, at some point he was mistreated, but he’s resilient, as dogs usually are, and he keeps on living his life of protecting his yard from vermin, or occasionally climbing the stepstool to lick the butter.

Only a couple of licks. He doesn’t want to get the squirts.

I can’t stress enough for people to rescue an animal instead of buying a from a puppy mill pet store, or backyard breeder. If you’re not sure how to tell, please do your research. Every time that you support one of these despicable markets, another abused animal is forced to breed and birth a handful of puppies. I’m not going to show the pictures, but believe me, they’re out there.

I can honestly say that I don’t know what I’d do without our boy, because he has helped me through a lot of my darkness. It’s like he can feel it when it’s time to stop playing and just get hugged. I don’t know how many times that I’ve been sitting at the computer and just had the urge to go in and lay down with him on the bed, but every single time, he snuggles right in and makes me smile.

Did I mention that he was a shedder?

Did I mention that he was a shedder?

Smiling is always good.

Anyhow, I guess it’s fight time, so I had better get what’s left of the squeaky toy and get in there. The fights can’t start without me.

Properly, I mean.

Inside the fire’s burnin me, in my mind you just keep turnin me, every which but loose,

Birdman

P.S. I was going to put the lyrics for that song in the horrible Sarah MacLachlan commercial, but decided that it wasn’t going to help me win the fight with the boy, so I went with something a little more scrappy.

The movie, not the song. Right turn, Clyde.

P.S.S. There are a lot of great pet rescues out there, so look one up in your area. Maybe you can’t take a dog right now, but most of them would probably love some help walking, feeding, and generally being there for the animals that are already in the shelter. Donations are always welcome as well, because these places aren’t cheap to run.

We got Blue from a lady named Miranda near Norwood, ON. You can find her at Save My Tail or on their Facebook page.

Apr 04

Eeeek, I Shopped At Walmart

And you’ll never guess what I got there.

I know, I know. I’m never going to live it down, but hear me out. I lifted my boycott a couple of years ago when I found out that they were carrying more products that were made in Canada, so I decided to lighten up on them a bit. From what I understand, Walmart Canada is run differently than the US, but all of the profits still end up there, so it doesn’t get me all giddy or anything.

What does get me giddy is seeing my friend Steph. Actually, seeing anything is good, which is how I ended up at Walmart in Trenton, Ontario.

I forgot my glasses out west in the dump truck, and was left with these.

They're a 10 year old prescription on safety lenses.

They’re a 10 year old prescription on safety lenses.

I was thinking about getting someone to ship my glasses to me, when I thought about it. They are a couple of years old, I hate them, and the prescription was taken off of these decade old safety lenses by a drunk chick. It really isn’t worth the few bucks to get them shipped.

So I got an eye exam and then went to see Steph, who is an optician at the Walmart in Trenton, Ontario. When I looked at the situation, it didn’t really matter where I got my glasses. I checked all of the stores around, and online, but they are all made overseas. So I figured I would keep my friend working for at least another hour or two.

She helped me try on glasses like these.

Nerdy, but dead sexy professor.

Nerdy, but dead sexy professor.

And these,

I think that these came in second.

I think that these came in second.

And a whole bunch of other ones as well, but these were the ones we settled on.

Apparently they are nice. They're comfortable, so I like that.

Apparently they are nice. They’re comfortable, so I like that.

Steph picked these ones, but I wasn’t sold, so I put it to a vote on G+. Everyone must understand that the voting is just so I get to try things on, while the final decision is made by Mrs. Birdman, and she picked them too. Actually, almost everyone chose them, so I guess my sense of style sucks.

There was a two pair deal (shocker), so I took it, because I needed some decent sunglasses as well. This was also put to a vote, and these were the winners by Steph, Mrs. B, and almost all of the five voters.

These totally distract you from noticing my wattle.

These totally distract you from noticing my wattle. Doh!

In case you are now saying to yourself, “Birdman is whipped. Why would he blindly let his wife pick out his glasses? Be a man.”, think about this.

I rarely look in the mirror, as most people can tell by my hair, so I will rarely see the glasses.

and…

I like to cocoon, and nobody wants to cocoon with someone wearing these.

Not as creepy as Jon LaJoie, but that's just because of my grin.

Not as creepy as Jon LaJoie, but that’s just because of my grin.

All in, I got two pairs of good quality glasses; one with polarized tint, and both with all the coatings and such, for $340. That seems like a pretty good deal to me. I wear my glasses all day, every day when I’m working, and I want to know that my lenses are matched up with my eyes, because I know what it’s like to have a pair of specs that are a bit off. It can make for some pretty bad headaches, and can probably result in your eyes getting tired or something. (I’m looking for scientific confirmation here.)

Anyhow, if you find that you need glasses, and you aren’t sure who to see, I highly recommend that you head down to Trenton and look for this beautiful face in the Wallymart Vision Centre.

The one on the right. You'll have a hard time finding me there before my next pair.

The one on the right. You’ll have a hard time finding me there before my next pair.

If you don’t see her, just ask for Stephanie. I’ve been wearing glasses since I was six years old, and have been fitted for a lot of pairs. She knows what she’s doing, and takes her career very seriously.

There, now that’s probably the last time you will ever see me recommend Walmart for anything.

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone,

Birdman

(I was in no way compensated for this post. I just like to pass on tales of great service. – CB)