I just love "Sponge Bob Square Pants." I leave it on for the birds...maybe they will learn the song.
9.11.2004
Truly Thankful
Right...everyone is going to post about 9-11, and I'm not about to be left out. However, I will be brief.
I woke this morning - Chino greeted me with happy trills and even Sterling bweeped a bit. Yippee and Dittles waggled and wigged as I set about preparing repast for all, and I glimpsed the Remembrance program at Ground Zero.
I stopped and gave thanks that I live in a country where my Grandparents can get primo healthcare, where my parents can travel with minimal fear of death, and where I can choose to worship, live and play exactly as I choose. I am glad I am whole and so is my family.
Life is exceptional!
I woke this morning - Chino greeted me with happy trills and even Sterling bweeped a bit. Yippee and Dittles waggled and wigged as I set about preparing repast for all, and I glimpsed the Remembrance program at Ground Zero.
I stopped and gave thanks that I live in a country where my Grandparents can get primo healthcare, where my parents can travel with minimal fear of death, and where I can choose to worship, live and play exactly as I choose. I am glad I am whole and so is my family.
Life is exceptional!
9.10.2004
Beware What You Wish...
Well, the Djinn gave me what I wished for, but it seems he is still inhabited by Robin Williams...
Man Gets 6 Months for Swinging Alligator
Fri Sep 10, 7:14 AM ET
DAYTONA BEACH, Fla. - A man who swung an alligator at his girlfriend during an argument was sentenced to six months in jail.
David Havenner, 41, of Port Orange, pleaded no contest to misdemeanor charges of battery and possession of an alligator, said Linda Pruitt, spokeswoman for the State Attorney's Office. He changed his earlier plea of not guilty, she said Wednesday.
He was sentenced to six month in jail with 48 days credit for time served during the Sept. 1 hearing, according to court records.
Sheriff's officials said Havenner was keeping the 3-foot gator in his bathtub and swung it at his girlfriend, Nancy Monico, 39, during an argument on July 16.
Monico told investigators that Havenner beat her with his fists, then grabbed the gator and swung it at her as she tried to escape. The gator struck Monico at least once, after which time Havenner threw empty beer bottles at her and then kicked her out of their mobile home, she told investigators.
Havenner told investigators that Monico bit his hand because she was upset that they had run out of alcohol.
The alligator was later released into the St. Johns River, wildlife commission officials said.
At least no one important (namely agillator) was hurt or maimed...
Man Gets 6 Months for Swinging Alligator
Fri Sep 10, 7:14 AM ET
DAYTONA BEACH, Fla. - A man who swung an alligator at his girlfriend during an argument was sentenced to six months in jail.
David Havenner, 41, of Port Orange, pleaded no contest to misdemeanor charges of battery and possession of an alligator, said Linda Pruitt, spokeswoman for the State Attorney's Office. He changed his earlier plea of not guilty, she said Wednesday.
He was sentenced to six month in jail with 48 days credit for time served during the Sept. 1 hearing, according to court records.
Sheriff's officials said Havenner was keeping the 3-foot gator in his bathtub and swung it at his girlfriend, Nancy Monico, 39, during an argument on July 16.
Monico told investigators that Havenner beat her with his fists, then grabbed the gator and swung it at her as she tried to escape. The gator struck Monico at least once, after which time Havenner threw empty beer bottles at her and then kicked her out of their mobile home, she told investigators.
Havenner told investigators that Monico bit his hand because she was upset that they had run out of alcohol.
The alligator was later released into the St. Johns River, wildlife commission officials said.
At least no one important (namely agillator) was hurt or maimed...
I Like to Hear Your Thoughts
Recently I was described as "undomesticated."
Please comment! Refer to picture gallery if needed.
Please comment! Refer to picture gallery if needed.
Enough Already!
Election years wear me out. Politicians sinking lower and lower in their campaign tactics; bloggers blogging endlessly about who they hate and why; name-calling, mud-slinging, ranting, fanatical soap-boxing; and to what end??? Do folks really think their votes make a difference?? REALLY??
OK, for those of you still laboring under the grand delusion that we live in a "democracy," let me take this one moment to voice my "political" view. (And if you think about it, you just might agree.) This is very abbreviated so try to work with me here.
Clear your mind... open your eyes... just take it all in without extreme prejudice... this won't hurt a bit...
Let's start with the most powerful man in the country... George Dub? - I mean he IS the President and Chief Executive. Do we not look to him in times of crisis for national guidance and assurance? P-Shaw!! The most powerful man in the country is... Alan Greenspan! Maybe even the world. Now that is established, (and I can talk about why he is the most powerful but that is a completely different subject) let's move on to the democratic farce.
We can use simple logic:
Alan Greenspan is omnipotent
Omnipotence is defined by wealth
Wealth equates to money
Money is power
Power is the ability to control
Control resides in the Chief Executive Office.
Chief Executive Office is inhabited by the President.
Extrapolating from the afore, we can infer that the most important occupation of the wealthy is the preservation of money, i.e. power, and the way to do this is to determine the occupancy, i.e. puppetry, of the Chief Executive Office. AND, what that adds up to is an Oligarchy, not a democracy.
Additionally, if you still think there are two reigning political parties in this country, once again, Confused! The Republican and Democratic factions are merely lip-service to an incredibly antiquated Constitution, and crutches for a nation that needs to identify with a "cause" - an excuse to shout and argue about meaningless policies and stances that will never become part of our governmental foundation, much less affect our daily lives. We have one party and that is the Roosevelt/Vanderbilt/Carnegie/Kennedy party that wrangles around and searches for the most compliant candidates and then shuffles them into a figurehead position where their every action can be controlled, manipulated, and dictated by the needs and desires of the wealthy/powerful who only respond to the dictates of the world economy, not world politics.
Money makes the world go 'round, and makes your vote worthless. Sorry, it's my opinion and I'm sticking to it. I will be glad to debate more in-depth in person and at length over a frothy wheat beer. Otherwise, I confine my views to this post, and I move on to much more immediate frivolity.
OK, for those of you still laboring under the grand delusion that we live in a "democracy," let me take this one moment to voice my "political" view. (And if you think about it, you just might agree.) This is very abbreviated so try to work with me here.
Clear your mind... open your eyes... just take it all in without extreme prejudice... this won't hurt a bit...
Let's start with the most powerful man in the country... George Dub? - I mean he IS the President and Chief Executive. Do we not look to him in times of crisis for national guidance and assurance? P-Shaw!! The most powerful man in the country is... Alan Greenspan! Maybe even the world. Now that is established, (and I can talk about why he is the most powerful but that is a completely different subject) let's move on to the democratic farce.
We can use simple logic:
Alan Greenspan is omnipotent
Omnipotence is defined by wealth
Wealth equates to money
Money is power
Power is the ability to control
Control resides in the Chief Executive Office.
Chief Executive Office is inhabited by the President.
Extrapolating from the afore, we can infer that the most important occupation of the wealthy is the preservation of money, i.e. power, and the way to do this is to determine the occupancy, i.e. puppetry, of the Chief Executive Office. AND, what that adds up to is an Oligarchy, not a democracy.
Additionally, if you still think there are two reigning political parties in this country, once again, Confused! The Republican and Democratic factions are merely lip-service to an incredibly antiquated Constitution, and crutches for a nation that needs to identify with a "cause" - an excuse to shout and argue about meaningless policies and stances that will never become part of our governmental foundation, much less affect our daily lives. We have one party and that is the Roosevelt/Vanderbilt/Carnegie/Kennedy party that wrangles around and searches for the most compliant candidates and then shuffles them into a figurehead position where their every action can be controlled, manipulated, and dictated by the needs and desires of the wealthy/powerful who only respond to the dictates of the world economy, not world politics.
Money makes the world go 'round, and makes your vote worthless. Sorry, it's my opinion and I'm sticking to it. I will be glad to debate more in-depth in person and at length over a frothy wheat beer. Otherwise, I confine my views to this post, and I move on to much more immediate frivolity.
9.09.2004
Monkey-Knuckle
...no time... can't write... new job... family business... blogged down... must carry on...
9.08.2004
Chico and the (Wo)-Man
I gotta new drug last night. Chico came home from the frenzied estate of the Birdy Boyz and is now residing in J's old abode (tears) and has availed himself of the stick to which J was so completely averse. This morning's repast included orange slice, alfalfa sprout, grapes, chinese mini corn, spinach, and raisins (now that I think of it, I should have taken a picture...Damn!). Wish I didn't have to leave him all alone on his first day, but it will give him a chance to acclimate. Nick-at-Nite was the overwhelming viewing choice. Sterling was quite interested and tried to engage Chico in some melodious banter, but Chico was playing hard-to-talk.
This is SO cool...I can't wait to get home tonight and play with my new toy...
This is SO cool...I can't wait to get home tonight and play with my new toy...
9.07.2004
I think I love you...lalalalalalalala
OK, this is probably one of the weirdest things that has ever happened to me (and I have been involved in some weird sh*t, let me tell you!)...
We all know that Labor Day weekend was my labor of love for the Birdy Boyz and their animal clan. It was awesome being alone and unsupervised with so many outstanding specimens of the birdy world...Macaws that can severe fingers, Amazons that make delicious rain forest noises, Cockatoos that coo lovingly saying "I love you" in dulcet tones, chickens that make eggs that I "eat them up , Yum!" All-in-All, a super weekend of consorting with wild animals gone somewhat domestic.
HOWEVER... here's the weird part. I'll set the stage...
Last day. Mid-Morning. Gentle light streams through west window. Birds readying for nap; rustling, twittering, scuffing around. Oz, large Beretta-type cockatoo known to bite.
"Good Morning, Oz!" I sing.
He ducks his head invitingly.
"Oh, Oz, you've broken your bowl mount again...Crikey!" I fetch new mount.
"Alrighty, gonna put this on and don't you break it again or I'll pank you...naughty Oz."
Oz eyes me jauntily as he climbs through the door and on top of cage.
I finish securing mount and prepare to replace Oz in cage.
Oz lifts foot and stretches it towards me, again ducking head and looking innocent.
I oblige Oz with arm.
Oz slowly begins to rock on wrist, lifts foot out to other hand/wrist. Grabs both hands, switches to other wrist. Rocks more.
"So you want to play the game??" I grab a foot in each hand and do the wiggly thing. Oz nips.
"OK, so no game. What do you want?"
Oz is getting agitated, not in a bitey way. He leans towards me as if wanting to cuddle (this is normal behavior for Cockatoos, they become VERY bonded to one person and are exceptionally affectionate).
I hold Oz close to my chest as he continues to arrange his feet on my hands. He now begins to fluff his feathers, get warm and wiggly.
I'm focused on his head as I don't want another "birdy kiss" that ends with my lip the size of the Hindenburg. And,...
now I notice Oz is really excited by my hands - gripping tightly and working his tail feathers about.
"Holy Crap, I'm getting raped by this bird."
And just as I think that, a lovely little deposit on my hand and Oz is strangely calm.
OK...that's weird!
We all know that Labor Day weekend was my labor of love for the Birdy Boyz and their animal clan. It was awesome being alone and unsupervised with so many outstanding specimens of the birdy world...Macaws that can severe fingers, Amazons that make delicious rain forest noises, Cockatoos that coo lovingly saying "I love you" in dulcet tones, chickens that make eggs that I "eat them up , Yum!" All-in-All, a super weekend of consorting with wild animals gone somewhat domestic.
HOWEVER... here's the weird part. I'll set the stage...
Last day. Mid-Morning. Gentle light streams through west window. Birds readying for nap; rustling, twittering, scuffing around. Oz, large Beretta-type cockatoo known to bite.
"Good Morning, Oz!" I sing.
He ducks his head invitingly.
"Oh, Oz, you've broken your bowl mount again...Crikey!" I fetch new mount.
"Alrighty, gonna put this on and don't you break it again or I'll pank you...naughty Oz."
Oz eyes me jauntily as he climbs through the door and on top of cage.
I finish securing mount and prepare to replace Oz in cage.
Oz lifts foot and stretches it towards me, again ducking head and looking innocent.
I oblige Oz with arm.
Oz slowly begins to rock on wrist, lifts foot out to other hand/wrist. Grabs both hands, switches to other wrist. Rocks more.
"So you want to play the game??" I grab a foot in each hand and do the wiggly thing. Oz nips.
"OK, so no game. What do you want?"
Oz is getting agitated, not in a bitey way. He leans towards me as if wanting to cuddle (this is normal behavior for Cockatoos, they become VERY bonded to one person and are exceptionally affectionate).
I hold Oz close to my chest as he continues to arrange his feet on my hands. He now begins to fluff his feathers, get warm and wiggly.
I'm focused on his head as I don't want another "birdy kiss" that ends with my lip the size of the Hindenburg. And,...
now I notice Oz is really excited by my hands - gripping tightly and working his tail feathers about.
"Holy Crap, I'm getting raped by this bird."
And just as I think that, a lovely little deposit on my hand and Oz is strangely calm.
OK...that's weird!
9.05.2004
Labor Day Weekend
Comfy pants, re-runs, and sloppy habits are usually the hallmarks of a long holiday weekend. A chance to stalk your backyard in PJ's, wait to comb your hair until you have to go to the store for another bag of chips, and of course the obligatory afternoon nap. Not for me... not this time.
I volunteered my efforts to the large animal clan of the "Birdy Boyz" and have spent 4-6 hours a day loving rescued dogs grown fat on regular meals; feeding a flock of fowl, exotic and domestic, that greet me as I come through the door and grow sad when I lock up for the night; and wandering the scruffy gardens of a home dedicated to nurturing the less fortunate in the animal kingdom. I wouldn't trade this experience for anything, and I more sure with every visit that organizing a foundation to support the rescue and rehabilitation of abused and neglected birds is just the thing.
I volunteered my efforts to the large animal clan of the "Birdy Boyz" and have spent 4-6 hours a day loving rescued dogs grown fat on regular meals; feeding a flock of fowl, exotic and domestic, that greet me as I come through the door and grow sad when I lock up for the night; and wandering the scruffy gardens of a home dedicated to nurturing the less fortunate in the animal kingdom. I wouldn't trade this experience for anything, and I more sure with every visit that organizing a foundation to support the rescue and rehabilitation of abused and neglected birds is just the thing.
9.04.2004
9.02.2004
Let's Get Retarded
"Come On... Dig Deep...Challenge Yourself..." These are the encouragements I gave to my cycle class last night while in my mind I thought, "What are you kidding? This program is hellacious! I'm torturing these poor people!" And yet, I got "thank you"'s, and "great ride"'s as the cyclers noodled out of the gym. However, the one enjoyable aspect of that muderous hour was the music, if I do say so myself:
1. Black Water
2. Fell on Black Days
3. Let's Get Retarded
4. Lady Marmalade (Extended Remix)
5. She Bang (William Hung Version)
6. She Bang (Ricky Martin)
7. Shook Me All Night Long
8. Corazon Espinado
9. Black Betty
10. Word Up
11. Tipsy
12. Senorita
13. Vibrate
Grueling, yet audio-satisfactory... My hamstrings hurt...YEOUCH!
1. Black Water
2. Fell on Black Days
3. Let's Get Retarded
4. Lady Marmalade (Extended Remix)
5. She Bang (William Hung Version)
6. She Bang (Ricky Martin)
7. Shook Me All Night Long
8. Corazon Espinado
9. Black Betty
10. Word Up
11. Tipsy
12. Senorita
13. Vibrate
Grueling, yet audio-satisfactory... My hamstrings hurt...YEOUCH!
Psittacine Ecstacy
In the wake of the condolences following J's death, the torturous tapes in my head about said demise, and continued existence without the little pecker, I am now presented with new joy.
A few blogs ago I talked about bliss, and I discovered my bliss this year when I contracted to hand-raise several hundred cockatiels, conures, greencheeks and small parrots. Within the first few feeds I had an indescribable feeling that I soon realized was passion/bliss in its purest form. When Crazy Bird Lady went tits up and I lost my contract, I was truly bereft and knew that I had to find a way to incorporate birds, particularly parrots, into my life. A new friend who is a parrot rescuer of the most dedicated sort has entrusted me with his collection of Macaws (Remember the Lip!), Amazons, Cockatoos, Conures and various other feathered companions. Over the last month, in preparation for his Labor Day vacation, I have been feeding the birds with Jeff's tender guidance and instruction. I have come to be close to a few of the flighty fellows and have come to be the dastardly enemy of one in particular (Remember the Lip!). However, in the course of my nightly feeds, I have become particularly attached to one little Amazonian fellow named Chico.
Chico is an unhappy, single male Mealy Amazon parrot who Jeff warned me of. Oddly enough, Chico and I have become friends. He allows me to scratch his neck and cheeks, cooing and raising his wings in delight. He never lunges at me and bows his head submissively when I approach the cage. I have enjoyed developing a relationship with the fellow who is such a "killer." Last night while feeding, Jeff and I worked harmoniously in the aviary...dumping seeds, filling water, reassuring Macaws, and calmly going about our business. I spent extra time with Chico and we scratched, cawed and strengthened our bond. As I was rubbing Chico's cheek, I glanced over at Jeff to find him staring wide-eyed at our tete-a-tete.
Well, you know what happens next. Upon leaving, Jeff walked me out to the car and after some small talk told me that he had wanted to wait until after the trip, but he and Tommy had deciced that Chico should come live with me. (imagine me standing in the dusk, no words coming out but the lips are moving)
Chico will never be a replacement for J, but he is certainly welcome into my home and life. And, with Sterling, Chico and other parrots needing rescue, perhaps the non-profit that I have been longing to start can begin to take shape.
Addendum non Sequitor: I have little Geckos in my garage.
A few blogs ago I talked about bliss, and I discovered my bliss this year when I contracted to hand-raise several hundred cockatiels, conures, greencheeks and small parrots. Within the first few feeds I had an indescribable feeling that I soon realized was passion/bliss in its purest form. When Crazy Bird Lady went tits up and I lost my contract, I was truly bereft and knew that I had to find a way to incorporate birds, particularly parrots, into my life. A new friend who is a parrot rescuer of the most dedicated sort has entrusted me with his collection of Macaws (Remember the Lip!), Amazons, Cockatoos, Conures and various other feathered companions. Over the last month, in preparation for his Labor Day vacation, I have been feeding the birds with Jeff's tender guidance and instruction. I have come to be close to a few of the flighty fellows and have come to be the dastardly enemy of one in particular (Remember the Lip!). However, in the course of my nightly feeds, I have become particularly attached to one little Amazonian fellow named Chico.
Chico is an unhappy, single male Mealy Amazon parrot who Jeff warned me of. Oddly enough, Chico and I have become friends. He allows me to scratch his neck and cheeks, cooing and raising his wings in delight. He never lunges at me and bows his head submissively when I approach the cage. I have enjoyed developing a relationship with the fellow who is such a "killer." Last night while feeding, Jeff and I worked harmoniously in the aviary...dumping seeds, filling water, reassuring Macaws, and calmly going about our business. I spent extra time with Chico and we scratched, cawed and strengthened our bond. As I was rubbing Chico's cheek, I glanced over at Jeff to find him staring wide-eyed at our tete-a-tete.
Well, you know what happens next. Upon leaving, Jeff walked me out to the car and after some small talk told me that he had wanted to wait until after the trip, but he and Tommy had deciced that Chico should come live with me. (imagine me standing in the dusk, no words coming out but the lips are moving)
Chico will never be a replacement for J, but he is certainly welcome into my home and life. And, with Sterling, Chico and other parrots needing rescue, perhaps the non-profit that I have been longing to start can begin to take shape.
Addendum non Sequitor: I have little Geckos in my garage.
9.01.2004
Copulatory Cuisine
Regardless of whether the aphrodisiacal effects are scientifically based or not, it all works when you are with that special someone (even if it is only yourself, hehe)...
The Passion that Binds
On Finding Your Bliss:
I wrote this one lovely afternoon while sitting in the sun on the porch of the Dubliner Pub. Sipping a Hefeweizen and being in the moment brought these thoughts to mind and pen.
My Uncle Christopher calls it your bliss, and has encouraged me at every turn to search for it. Perhaps it is something tied to your destiny. Perhaps it is only a reflection of some seemingly unattainable desire.
How does one find one's passion/bliss? Some might say that through the serene process of zen, one can attain passion, or maybe one just fumbles about until the passion presents itself. Sometimes we don't recognize our passion until it beats us about the head and shoulders with a large prickly stick. I imagine that it happens in a myriad of ways, each singular for each individual seeking.
What I know is that the passion is not all pleasure. Frustration, knowledge, suffering, joy, submission and dominance - a plethora of weltering emotions and proficiencies/inefficiencies are all part and parcel of the passion and its demands and rewards.
The passion screams, weeps, laughs unbridled. It embraces, it thrusts away, elusive yet tangible and ephemeral as faeries, lover, friend, concupiscent enemy. The conquering delight, mischevious uncertainty, blatant failure, devious gift and amorphous anxiety.
I wrote this one lovely afternoon while sitting in the sun on the porch of the Dubliner Pub. Sipping a Hefeweizen and being in the moment brought these thoughts to mind and pen.
My Uncle Christopher calls it your bliss, and has encouraged me at every turn to search for it. Perhaps it is something tied to your destiny. Perhaps it is only a reflection of some seemingly unattainable desire.
How does one find one's passion/bliss? Some might say that through the serene process of zen, one can attain passion, or maybe one just fumbles about until the passion presents itself. Sometimes we don't recognize our passion until it beats us about the head and shoulders with a large prickly stick. I imagine that it happens in a myriad of ways, each singular for each individual seeking.
What I know is that the passion is not all pleasure. Frustration, knowledge, suffering, joy, submission and dominance - a plethora of weltering emotions and proficiencies/inefficiencies are all part and parcel of the passion and its demands and rewards.
The passion screams, weeps, laughs unbridled. It embraces, it thrusts away, elusive yet tangible and ephemeral as faeries, lover, friend, concupiscent enemy. The conquering delight, mischevious uncertainty, blatant failure, devious gift and amorphous anxiety.
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