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.

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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

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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.

Feb 12

Things Are Sometimes Good

Birdman

I don’t announce it much here, but I’m still travelling out west for work from time to time. The reason I don’t write much about it is because I already have, on several occasions, and I don’t think that there is much different than any of the other times. I still miss the hell out of my girls and the boy, and I still wish that I could make a decent living and be home every night.

Plus, I have plans on turning my travels into something bigger than blog posts, so it wouldn’t be good to give it all away. Right?

Anyhow, I was trying to save a little money and hardship for my sweet baby, so I booked a 1:30 PM flight from Toronto to save $100. The shuttle leaves at 4:30 AM, so I knew I was going to have a while to wait, but I was okay with that. I figured I would write a blog post for the new blog, mess around on Google+ and Twitter, and try to plug our new project without offending too many of the gentle people.

I didn’t know that you can’t check your bag in that early.

Ah, the airport. It has a homey feel to it. No?

Ah, the airport. It has a homey feel to it. No?

The kiosk said I needed to go to guest services, but didn’t say why. I got in line behind about 10 other people, while the West Jet CSAs kept escorting people that were arriving late to the front of the line. I was starting to get a little miffed, but I figured that I had six hours, so I wouldn’t say anything. What’s the point, right? Some day it might be me that is rushing to make a flight for one reason or another.

After standing there for forty five minutes, I was next. As the people were getting checked in, the CSAs were leaving. Either going on break, or off shift. I stood there for another fifteen minutes or so before someone came up and sent me to the international side.

8492654-illustration-of-a-man-fuming-with-angerBy now I’m fuming inside of my head, because everybody that shows up late is given special treatment, but the people who arrive well ahead of their flights have to stand there and let their feet burn. There is a reason that the airlines ask you to arrive a couple of hours early, and it’s to allow all of the people who show up late, a speedy escort to the best service on any major Canadian airline.

I digress. As usual.

The lady knew that I had stood there for over an hour before telling me that I couldn’t check my bag in for a few hours. Before I could say anything, she asked if I wanted to bump up to a 9:05 flight, but seeing as my connection wouldn’t be leaving Calgary until quite a bit later, I opted to wait where there was better wifi.

She then offered me an upgrade for having to wait so long, and I accepted graciously, because you get a free sandwich, booze, and a can of Pringles, plus some sweet leg room. I then took my new, upgraded boarding pass and went looking for somewhere to eat breakfast that wasn’t Tim Hortons.

I found a little sandwich shop that I almost bought a breakfast sandwich at before remembering that I am trying to eat wheat free. I died a little bit inside, and as I was about to buy a gluten-free energy bar, I noticed a cooler with sushi in it.

Looks like it’s a vegetarian roll and a coffee with milk for breakfast. (they were out of cream as well)

My point in all of this is that I kept my mouth shut.

Even though I wanted to yell at all of the ignorant people whose time is so much more important than everyone else’s, that they get to move to the front of the line. I didn’t and I was just given a $45 upgrade, had a much healthier breakfast, and I didn’t have to make anyone feel bad for being an inconsiderate jerk, or for catering to said jerks.

Now I’m going to check in for my flight with the free food that I can’t eat, but you can bet that I will enjoy a couple of beer and some Pringles.

As long as it’s not wheat beer.

All my bags are packed, I’m ready to go, I’m standing here outside your door,

Birdman

 

Feb 07

Ponytails Turn Me On

birdmandesk

Today we went to the Cobourg Community Centre and walked around the track. We tried to walk Blue around Colborne, to get some fresh air and beat the winter blues, but the boy can be a bit of an asshat when he gets rambunctious, so we ended up turning around and taking him home. The drifted in sidewalks also helped with our decision to go to the heated, indoor track.

Now I will admit that I have always thought walking around anything just to walk was pointless, but today we couldn’t go for a walk around town very safely, so it was decided that we would go to the track and then out for lunch with Gadget.

When we got there, I queued up my newest love; Slacker radio, and hit the track. If you haven’t tried Slacker, you should. Aaron turned me on to it during a rum soaked game of darts, and I liked it so much that I got the paid version.

Photo by Pete Fisher – Northumberland Today (Click photo for original article.)

I turned on a cool eclectic rock station and held hands with my one true love.

Well, until the first old doll came trucking up the left with her arms just a swinging. That was when we figured that we should keep the left lane open for the old folks that were passing us incessantly. No one wants to get hit with a stray dumbbell.

On our second lap, my sweet baby decided she was going to run. She looked back at me with a smile and a wave, and off she went. That brought a grin to my face as I watched her bounce away.

She has the best smile I’ve ever seen.

Seriously. I melt every time.

Seriously. I melt every time.

Sure, the swinging ponytail gets my motor going, but the way she smiles at me stirs my soul in ways that I didn’t know existed. It’s a look that made me want to yell to the old guy that was wheezing on by me, just how much I loved her.

It’s an immeasurable amount.

I hope I can keep her smiling forever. I know I will be.

One minute you’re waiting for the sky to fall, the next you’re dazzled by the beauty of it all,

Birdman

P.S. Do you utilize any of the amenities offered by the CCC? Which ones?

Consider a donation to the cause. They are still trying to meet their original fundraising goal, and every little bit helps.

P.S.S. The new blog should be up and running by Monday. I’m pretty excited.

Dec 04

Gala Parté 2013

And Darrin!

And Darrin!

Well, Movember has come and gone, but that shouldn’t mean that you quit thinking about men’s cancers. They get people all year long, so  keep on top of it.

There, I’m done all of my harping and begging. We rang out the end of what has become my favourite month of the year, and we did it with style and grace. That means that I’m going to have to wing it until the time comes for Float Your Fanny Down The Ganny preparations. It also means that I have a few photos to show you. Some are like this.

This is excited she gets when she sees a razor in my hand.

This is how excited she gets when she sees a razor in my hand.

Or there was the one on the Brady’s bed before they got to the hotel.

Nothing like a good pillow hump.

Nothing like a good pillow hump. Yes, I got them both.

I just like to be the first to hump in a fresh hotel bed, that’s all.

Come on. With a mo like that, you know he's going to destroy that bed as soon as the room gets cleared.

Come on. With a mo like that, you know he’s going to destroy that bed as soon as the room gets cleared.

Soon we had the whole gang in to our little home away from home.

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Then Scooter and Homes brought me something to wear.

Too much teeth. I'm not good at being a gang banger, but I'm trying, Mo. Really I am.

Too much teeth and glass. I’m not good at being a vato, but I’m trying, Mo. Really I am.

Scooter, Gadget, Homes, and I had left the hotel first, and while we were in the cab, Homes passed me half a bottle of tequila.

“No, I’m okay.”, I said

“That’s not the answer I was looking for, Ese. I left the cap in the the room and we can’t take it in the bar.” was his reply.

“You can’t waste good tequila.” said I, and then the bottle made it’s rounds. Apparently Scooter and Gadget aren’t wasteful either.

Gadget dressed up too. Looks like it's working for him.

Gadget dressed up too. Looks like it’s working for him.

Remember this from last year? Well, remember it for later.

Remember this from last year’s party? No? Well, remember it for later.

Homes and Scooter buggered off somewhere after they got their free beer tickets. Gadget and I cruised the strip looking for action and we found it at the Sher-Wood booth.

He, of course, kicked my ass, but we both got a free mini stick out of the deal, so it was all good. There was also the Harley booth.

He likes to touch my belly sometimes.

He likes to touch my belly sometimes. It’s because I’m gangsta.

We made a flip book thing too, but it would be hard to show here. Also, I don’t have it.

Dwayne Gretzky played again. They were awesome again. Scooter showed back up and danced.

With the devil!

Or maybe it's Rich Uncle Pennybags from Monopoly.

Or maybe it’s Rich Uncle Pennybags from Monopoly, they’re very similar.

It was about this time that everyone else showed up. Mrs. Birdman started a game with Firecracker where you had to get your picture taken with as many people as possible, but she promptly forgot about it because of her amnesia juice. That juice also made her forget to check her phone while she stood in the crowd and watched the band. Not that I was trying to find her. Much.

Firecracker, on the other hand, did not forget that shit. I would need three posts just to show the dedication that this spunky little ginger showed at that party. I guess I’ll just post all of the photos on the Google+ page for whoever wants to see.

Cheers, Tweezle. You're not going to see much of her for the rest of the night.

Cheers, Tweezle. You’re not going to see much of her for the rest of the night.

(While you’re there, you might as well add us to your circles. We don’t bite… hard.)

There is one chain of events that transpired with The Centaur, Mrs. Brady, Firecracker, and the Coke man, that is too funny to not post. I wasn’t there, but Tweezle did a great job of capturing it’s entirety, so it feels like I was.

She probably thought it was a lead shank.

She probably thought it was a lead shank.

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So she has now let go and things start going downhill.

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But wait! The Coke man thought he had better take control of the situation.

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Don’t let go until his balls drop.

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Okay, you’re good, Now let go of that stud and go on about your business.

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Upsy daisy.

While these guys were clowning around, Dale Jr. and Danica were out making new friends.

I don't even want to know where this is going. Wait. Yes I do.

I don’t even want to know where this is going. Wait. Yes I do.

Do you like the way I painted it grey like an elephant's trunk?

Do you like the way I painted it grey like an elephant’s trunk?

Things started to slide after the band stopped, so Gadget and I loaded one cab full and went back in to round up the rest of the crew, but Firecracker would have none of it. I think we had a pants off dance off, because I remember dancing, then I remember wearing some black, lacy panties when I was back at the hotel. I am just guessing of course, but she claimed them, so I’d say I won.

While we were back inside, we decided that we needed a huge inflatable moustache.

It's the one that's obvious.

It’s the one that’s obvious.

The problem was that there was a security guard that was no help at all. He wouldn’t even lift me up so I could undo the ropes. He said I had to go and ask one of the Movember Canada staff.

I’ll find Emma. She seems awesome in her emails.

No dice, but I did meet her partner. She thought it was a great idea for us to steal the stache. She put me in touch with Dancy McGee, but she said that we could absolutely not steal that moustache. I believe she then got some more security on it and pointed me out as a possible culprit.

This left the front door almost wide open with three guards at the back door.

Hello, what feels like an 80 lb block of ice.

Hello, what feels like an 80 lb block of ice.

This will look so good on your lawn.

This will look so good on your lawn.

Tongues don't stick at +3°C

Some dude asked us if we wanted to go outside and do some ice. It wasn’t that good.

Rub a dub dub.

Rub a dub dub. What a pair of assholes we are.

We want to thank Appleton Estates for the delicious rum, ginger beer and cranberry drinks. You maybe shouldn’t have given out so many, but we’re glad that you did.

Oh, and If you were planning on using this sculpture again, you aren’t.

I woke up still drunk at what I thought was 5 or 6 AM and sat on the toilet eating Zantac and drinking water to cure my pounding headache. I then started investigating where the cold air was coming from. I looked in the shower. My memory started to come back and I decided that I should start melting it down so people could shower if they wanted to.

Apparently just having the door closed wasn’t very much soundproofing. I was startled by a beautiful face in the doorway telling me I was waking up everybody, and to go back to bed. I explained my logic in my trademark loud whisper and was told that it was still night and to shut off the shower and get the fuck back to bed.

I did.

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This was all that was left after Mr. Brady’s shower, so I’d say we did a good job of getting rid of the evidence. Well except for this blog post. And all the pictures on G+. Oh, and the eyewitnesses. Meh. What are you gonna do?

Thank you to all who contributed your money to this year’s Movember campaign, and to all of my brothers and sisters who donated their time and their souls to it; I am so proud of you. You restore my faith in humanity daily and it keeps me going. That and Mrs. Birdman’s sweet love.

Mo on, Mo Fos,

Birdman