I am the proud nesting ground of one retarted, autistic and dumb mother-fucker female redbird.
Some stupid, over-testosteroned egotistical male redbird has decided that MY property is the best place to keep his harem of the “dumb blonde” female redbirds. I have three of them. I assume he is working on more, due to the typical boredom factor of about three months of most males.
This one particular dumbass, I mean, female redbird, has decided that she can get into my house. For six months, I have listened to this dumb mother-fucking stupid-ass bird peck at my window. Full head-on. At first, I worried that she would kill herself, so I would go in there and scare her away. As it continued, I just got pissed.
I put up blocks, cardboard boxes, scary shit; nothing deters this stupid fucking bird. My house looks like it has been boarded up with cardboard in the back. All she does is find another fucking window to peck at.
It starts at 5 a.m. and goes till about 9 p.m. I am now hoping that one last peck will take out her brain stem and that will be the end of it. It’s either that, or I go out and commit mass murder against three harem birds. God knows what the male would do to me should I do that.
I don’t own a gun; I guess I would have to resort to hand to hand combat. Because I can’t fly, and I am slow as molasses, she has the upper wing on me. But it’s MY fucking house, bitch. Maybe some poison on the glass? The bird CAN’T be smarter than me. Or can she?
Ideas on killing the mother-fucking retarted and autistic harem bird? All ideas welcomed.
In light of the fact that I have spent years and years and years celebrating Valentine’s day alone, consuming vast quantities of chocolate to compensate for the lack of sex in my life, I have decided to put together a proposition.
My proposition consists of exactly what I am looking for in a man. Okay, the MINIMAL qualities. Over the years, my list has grown quite short, much like my expectations out of life.
So, without further ado, here is my proposition to those men who fit the bill.
Single, well-employed, traveling female in search of anatomically-correct male counterpart who has the following qualities:
1. Can speak and write at a 9th grade level.
2. Can lift Sparklettes water from porch to kitchen.
3. Can say “uh huh” and “oh” and “wow” at appropriate times in conversation when not listening.
4. Is mildly employable.
5. Breathes air. Doesn’t have to breathe air well.
6. Can get out of bed by himself without a forklift. Crowbar is acceptable.
7. Does not wear women’s lingerie.
8. Does not fuck with my purple pens. These are sacred items.
9. Does not get manicures.
10. Does not fart ON me.
Okay, I couldn’t compress it without losing half the screen, so upon Wayne’s recommendation, I uploaded it to youtube.
Again, I am the one with the christmas dress in many colors in striped pattern both horizontal and vertical and talking about tearing my dress. Ah, skinny once upon a time.
I know I was supposed to take the site down this weekend, but my friend, Keitha from high school, found an old video we created for our senior English class about the Great Gatsby. You really should watch it. Let it buffer out a bit before you hit the play button or it will pause on you.
You can probably tell which one is me; I am the skinny girl in the striped christmas-looking dress that is strapless, and, for some reason, in a whole lot of the movie. I am one of the first people you will see, and I am the one that is faking drunk a lot, because of my character, and making a lot of noise and stopping the party mid-way through. And I am skinny. Skinny. Jeez! It’s amazing what we forget.
It’s pretty hilarious though. At the end, we do credits on camera; Keitha and I. It’s worth a watch; it’s so bad and just way too funny.
Sorry it’s so long; I am sure it was a requirement of our assignment. Basically, we just spend a lot of time dancing, talking and screwing up our lines. And at the end, for some reason, as we pretend to accept an award, I decide to say, “Sit Ubu, sit!” Good dog.
I am going to be taking this site down this weekend. I honestly don’t have much of anything to say that has value. I have had an horrific year, and it’s starting out to be quite bleak. I don’t want to write about that, but I am apathetic after last year, which means I really have nothing to say.
I have missed you all very much. Unfortunately, due to ECT, my memory is gone and I haven’t had the energy to keep up with other blogs. It’s me. And I am sorry for that. Please know that I still care about many of you.
Take care, and maybe I will see you in the future.
