Nov 04

The Shavedown – Part 1

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So we had our little party at Kelly’s Homelike Inn in Cobourg Ontario. Kelly’s is my favourite bar, probably because it’s the first place that my Dad ever took me for a beer. It was the bar that he went to to drink with his buddies, and it turned into the bar that I drank at with my buddies. If you get a chance to get in there for a drink you should go, just to say you were there. You would then be in the company of some pretty great people. Look around the walls at some of the legends, sporting and non, and you will get a feel of the rich history of the place. It is probably the oldest liquor serving establishment in town, but I could be wrong about that. Sometimes I talk out of my ass.

Kellys

Anyhow, enough about Kelly’s for this installment, we’re here to talk about real men, in a real man’s bar, shaving like real men do.

(drunken real men with emotional problems)

It was a rainy Halloween night, so there wasn’t a lot of action happening downstairs where the band was setting up.

Savvy and the Hairdo Band were opening for GNR, but Axel got trashed and ended up puking off the patio all night.

Savvy and the Hairdo Band were opening for GNR, but Axel got trashed and ended up puking off the patio all night.

Luckily Savvy is a professional and was able to finish out the night with some inspiration from Slash and this other guy.

Luckily Savvy is a professional and was able to finish out the night with some inspiration from Slash and this other guy.

Continue reading

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.

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

Smarty

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

Aug 19

Road Rash

Birdman

Alright, so after my parents divorced, we moved with my mom to a house that was two doors north of my Uncle Larry’s place. He was my dad’s brother, and it wasn’t uncommon to see Dad’s pickup parked there on a Saturday or Sunday morning.

It also wasn’t uncommon for me to have stupid ideas.

This is one of those times that the two landed on the same day.

Now this was a weekend that we were at Mom’s and my brother Larry and I were playing in the yard. We just happened to be looking for something fun to do, when Dad’s truck pulled into Uncle Larry’s driveway.

Don't you dare make fun of my Paint skills; my wife was sleeping, and I don't know how to use Photoshop.

Don’t you dare make fun of my Paint skills; my wife was sleeping, and I don’t know how to use Photoshop.

“Hey, we should go and crawl under Dad’s truck.” said I, in my infinite wisdom.

“What for?”

“We’ll drag underneath it when he backs up, then we’ll climb into the box and scare the shit out of him. He won’t be able to see us in his mirror,  then…BANG! We are yelling at him in the back of his truck. It’s going to be so funny.”

“Haha, that’ll be so awesome. Let’s sneak through the ditch, so he doesn’t see us. We’ll be like ninjas.”

I thought that was a great idea, so I answered with a silent nod and point towards my uncle’s place.

Back in the early 80’s, people weren’t as flippant with the word “ninja” as they are today. Back then it meant something; especially to a young boy who had just watched this.

So we stealthily crept through the ditch and crawled under the truck, hanging on to the rear bumper so he couldn’t take off without us, and we waited. After a short while that seemed like two days, we heard the screen door open and heard him say goodbye to Uncle Larry.

This was it, our time to shine.

He fired up the beast and started backing out onto the road. Everything was going according to plan. We smiled at each other and laughed inwardly. As the truck came to a stop we spun around and grabbed the bumper while moving into a crouch position behind the truck. YES! It was totally working. As he started going forward, Larry lost his grip on the bumper and was left behind as I “land skated” behind the old girl.

Shit. I was going to have to go this one alone.

As he picked up speed, I reached up to grab the top of the tailgate and pull myself into the back of the truck. This was going to be so cool. I secretly wished I would be able to record the the manoeuvre and the look on his face as I leapt into the box and started yelling at him.

That was when the tailgate popped open from not being shut all the way and smashed me in the face. That sent me skittering onto the road at about twenty miles an hour. I’m not going to tell you that I wasn’t concerned, because I was, but when I finally stopped and realized that I was okay, I began to grin. Partially because I was glad to not be mortally wounded, but also because I knew I would have made it had the gate stayed shut. A few scraped up limbs was worth knowing that.

Seriously, stop laughing at me. It's not my fault.

Seriously, stop laughing at me. It’s not my fault.

The truck slid to a stop and Dad came running back toward me, as my brother was yelling and making his way toward me too. He was laughing and grinning when he got to me, and had a look of incredulity at what had just happened.

Then there was Dad. I’ll never forget the look on his face through the stars and my pulsing, bloodshot eyes. It was an expression of shock that turned to horror. Oh, and then the fear, that I might have mistaken for rage.

Can you imagine being a parent and seeing your kid in the middle of the road with blood all over his smiling face? I couldn’t then, but I sure can now. He had no clue what had happened, just as I suspected, but instead of that being funnier, it was just a lot scarier. I think about the myriad of emotions that would course through me if it was one of the girls that this happened to. It’s really hard to fathom.

Not that I will ever have to worry about that though, because they are far too smart to pull that kind of stunt, and they rarely go outside. This is good, because that means that most of the things I expected to die from as a young man are off the table, and there’s a way less chance of them developing harmful sunspots.

I can’t say I’m proud of all of the things that I’ve done, but I can say I’ve never intentionally hurt anyone,

Birdman

Aug 09

My Wife Said I Should Make A Post Out Of This

(This is from our guest blogging page. Sort of. It’s been awhile since I’ve pandered to you to write anything, but it wasn’t because I didn’t want you to. I just get busy and don’t think about things sometimes. If you’d like to do a guest post or a bunch of them, just follow these steps.)

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First of all… GET AN IDENTITY. I’d like to say that writing has helped me immensely. I have learned to deal with my emotions, instead of tamping them down; I’ve also learned a lot about grammar and punctuation. I know from talking to a lot of you, that you have some interesting stories, and you also have some funny stories (dogs eating shit comes to mind). I know that some of you are embarrassed to write these stories for whatever reason, and I understand, so here’s a cool thing you can do that will also add mystery to your life. Create a pseudonym (pen name) for yourself. Make it something that no one would guess, and then create an email account for that persona. It’s very easy to make another email address, but I’m not sure of the easiest way. I just go to mail.google.com and make a gmail account, but it’s just a preference thing. I would prefer it if you posted as yourself, of course, because I consider all of you friends, but I do know about stage fright and whatnot.

Second of all… WRITE. It’s really not that hard, once you get started. We will help you with your post as much as we can, and we also have access to real english teachers and shit for editing if we need it. You can write about whatever you want, and we promise not to publish it, until you are satisfied. I think about how you all know me a little better than I know you, and I think that puts me at a disadvantage, so I want to hear about your life. What kind of shenanigans did you get up to as a teen? What are your dreams, fears, trials and tribulations? What scares the bejeezus out of you, and what empowers you, and gets your ass out of bed in the morning. Do you want to hug your kids until their spine cracks, (not recommended) or do you just want to have kids? How’s your relationship? Would you like to hear someone say that they love you, but they never do? These are all things that we want to hear about, because we have all been there at some point. Maybe you have a real problem, and you would like to get other peoples view points on it. We welcome all submissions, and also any suggestions. You never know, you may want to start your own blog if you like it.

Third thing… SEND IT IN. The best way for us is if you copy and paste it into the email body, and send it in that way. It just makes it easy to copy it to the post box from there. The email address is

birdman at changethetopic dot com

Another cool thing is if you do it via the Harass Us page, you can put in a fake email and name, and I won’t even know who you are. That way you can be completely anonymous.

Thanks for reading our meager blog, and keep on loving each other,

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