We all float down here..

There's a rather large flock of wild turkeys roaming the campus this year. They've been doing us a service by eating the mostly rotted Ginko fruit that's littered the lawn by the building I work in. Rotted Ginko fruit smells exactly like decomposing dog shit. Only you'd need a dog the size of a Triceratops to get a stench this big.

Driving in to work today, I had to stop and swipe my garage pass. One of the poults^* hopped up on the hood of my truck, all 'Oh hai thar'. All I could think of was:


I turned on the wipers, the poult backed off but stayed on the hood. I tried to shoo it off, it ran to the other side of the hood and gave me a hurt look. So I got back in the truck and waited. As you do when there's a really stupid bird that has these on their feet:


Having worked with raptors^*, I see talons and all I think of are the other raptors. The ones with claws like these on their feet:


I am not stupid enough to get in a confrontation with a bird that could seriously hurt me if it panics.

The Parking and Transit service dude, however, was not so smart. He came over and told me to move the truck.

"Can't. Turkey on the hood. I tried to shoo it off, but it's stubborn. It'll likely get bored in a few minutes and hop off."

"You have to move the truck now. You're blocking one of the entrances."

"There are three more right next to this one, and nobody's come in for the last ten minutes. I'm pretty sure I can give the dumb bird a few to get a move on."

"I'll scare it off the hood for you, then you can move the truck."

"That's a bad idea..you've already started to chase the turkey. Great."

So this guy tries to shoo the turkey. It runs to the other side of the hood. He runs around the front of the car to that side, yelling and clapping his hands and looking all manner of foolish. The bird just moves out of reach. Wash, rinse, repeat several times. I'm trying not to laugh, and I really regret that I didn't bust out the cell phone and get video.

The bird hunkered down and leaned forward. I heard the guy say something about it ready to fly and.. well, birds in that position? Flying isn't what they're about to do. Which the guy found out. He reached to try to startle the bird, and it let loose. And I do mean loose. Semi-liquid stress urea and feces, from a Ginko-laden diet, came out at force and hit the man's lower face, neck and chest. Thankfully, most of it did not land on my car. I had the windows up and the air wasn't on, and even so, I could still smell the horrendous stink he'd just been covered with. Only after, when the man was screaming obscenities and gagging and trying to clean his face off, did the bird hop off my truck and scamper off into the grass.

At that point, I couldn't move the truck because I was convulsed with hysterical laughter and gagging. I did manage to hand the man a roll of paper towels to help clean himself off.

And this, folks, is another reason why you don't harass the wildlife. Seven hours later, I'm still giggling.

^* - a young turkey
^* - birds of prey

My godsdaughter is 5. I keep thinking she's 3 because I have no sense of time and she's still a wee little bug, and then I talk to her and wonder if she's secretly much older than her birth age. She started "real school" a month ago. She got sent home from Kindergarten today and it's my fault.

"So what happened today, kiddo? I heard you got in trouble."
"NO! I got sent home. I said a bad word."
"Uhoh. That sounds like trouble to me."
"NO! One of the boys in my class is a turd."
"Is that the word you said? Did you call him a turd to his face?"
"No, but I should have! He was meaning up on my friend."
"What'd you do?"
"I told the teacher."
"Did she stop the meaning?"
"Yes, and then we had to talk about why it was bad to mean on people and call them names."
".. What name did you call this turd person?"
"I didn't call him ANYTHING! That would be just as mean as he was, and *I* am not a turd!"
"No, you are not, and it's very awesome that you realize you shouldn't fight namecalling with more namecalling. Quit trying to kill me with curiousity, Bug. How'd the bad word come into play?"
"Welllll, the teacher made us all talk about why it was bad to mean on people, everyone in a circle, and when she came to me I said it was bad to mean on people but maybe turdface - I didn't call him that! I used his name! Honest! But he IS a turdface, really - I said maybe he didn't try to be bad but really just felt small and hurtful inside because he had a small penis and had to mean on other people to make himself feel big and important."
".. You got sent home for saying 'penis'?"
"No. Got sent home for arguing with the teacher, cuz she says it's a bad word and I wanted to know what I should call a penis, then. She sent me into the hall and then she called Mama."
"She says this is my fault?"
"Cuz when Mama asked me why I said that, I said cuz you said that about the man who yelled at Mama that one time and when I asked what was wrong with his penis that you would say sorry to him about it, Mama said you meant it was small. He was a big man, though, and not a little boy, so I thought maybe it was a birth defect and he had been teased about it and it made him mean to people cuz he felt all bad inside his ownself. Isn't that what you meant?"
"..Can I say yes because your version is much nicer than what I meant when I said it?"
"No, because you're not a liar. So you should tell me if that's not what you meant."
"That's not what I meant, Bug. The man said a bad word about my friend, so I insulted him back, which wasn't very nice of me. I'm not always such a nice person, especially when someone means up on my friends. You're more awesome than me, and you should stay that way forever."
"Oh. But you were not-mean enough to not use a swearword at him, which is pretty awesome for you that you remembered I was there enough to not say a *really* bad word at him. You just said 'penis', which isn't a bad word, even though my teacher thinks it is. Why does she? I don't get it."
"I think she just means you shouldn't be talking about other people's penises in class."
"Well I can't talk about MINE! I don't HAVE a penis!"
"You sound awfully sure of that."
"I don't! And I tried to pee standing up like Daddy when I was little and even you said I had to sit down to pee because I was a girl, and girls don't have penises so I can't have a penis, because I'm a girl!"
"I said you had to sit down because otherwise you'd pee all over the seat."
"BECAUSE I DIDN'T HAVE A PENIS AND COULDN'T AIM! You said that, and you know you said that!"
"Alright, fair enough. You don't have a penis. Not even a really really small one."
"See?! I TOLD you! And it wouldn't be small because I am not all hateful inside, so if I DID have a penis, I'd have a really BIG one! But I'm a girl, so I guess I have to have a vagina instead. I think they only come in one size, vaginas. Nobody ever says 'Sorry about your small vagina'."
"No, but now I'm filing that one away."
"AUNT T! You don't get to say sorry about someone's vagina!"
"I don't?"
"NO! .. Because when I'm big enough to tell off mean big people, I'm gonna say it to them and it won't be new if you start while I'm still a little kid! No vaginas, Aunt T!"
"Ok. No vaginas. Can I still use 'sorry about your penis'?"
"Until a teacher tells you not to, I guess. Kinda wish one would. Then you could tell them they're stupid for thinking a doctor word is a bad word."

Her Mom: "What the HELL are you two talking about?!" And then she took the phone away.

Apparently E. got sent home for being "disruptive" because she got into a discussion with the teacher about what to call a penis, if "penis" was a bad word, and the discussion apparently involved a lot of "Stop saying that!" and "Why can't I..?" Really, the teacher's had E. in her class for a month now. She should know better by now.

Kel and I got into an argument whether it was my fault for saying the 'sorry about your penis' line in front of E., or whether it was Kel's fault for explaining what I meant by it. I'm happy to take the blame on this one, though.

tl;dr - My godsdaughter is made of win and kittens, and I am doing my job.

Mel gets a pass. I don't know why; possibly because she likes Care Bears. Or because I like her more than I like you. Or because you have kept this particular aspect of yourself on the dl and I highly appreciate the ignorance you have left me in. Also possibly because I would be surprised if Mel was /not/.

"I started watching My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.."
"Do not tell me of your filthy, perverse deviance."
"I only watch it for the stories!"
"Which line is it that men have been using to justify their porn for as long as men have been able to find porn in convenient, take-home packages? I forget."
"No, really!"
"You could let this whole subject drop right now and retain some dignity. But I know you won't."
"It's awesome!"
"Yes. I am filled with awe that adult males, formerly believed to be members of the human race, watch a cartoon about giddy ponies."
"Oh, so now we're subhuman?! Harsh, dude!"
"Ah, so .. you don't call yourself a 'brony'?"
".... ..... IT'S JUST A NAME!"
"I see I was right on the money with the dignity comment."
"Only because you feel the need to mock a sweet TV show."
"Funny; I thought I was mocking you."
"For watching a TV show."
"Hm, and here I thought it was because you don't seem to grasp 'do not tell me' and 'you could let the whole subject drop' as indications of which direction I'd prefer the conversation went."
"I thought that no meant yes."
".... This is me, letting you think about what you just said."
"Not like that! I meant, I thought you were being tetchy just to get a rise out of me about a show I like."
"Wait - you like Babylon 5."
"Don't even go there!"
"Oh, I'm not.. but JMS also brought about He-Man, She-Ra and The Real Ghostbusters, so it ties in rather nicely to your creepy cartoon fetish."
"Why do you know that? You can't hate him that much."
"Have you met me? Anyway, putting aside the issue of whether or not I could hate him that much - I don't hate him. I do my research - when I say 'Such and such sucks', I like to be prepared with cites that make my opinion understandable to raging fanthings."
"I am not a raging fanthing!"
"'Brony'?"
"SHUT UP!"

At that point, the subject was, thankfully, changed to the much less controversial topic of whether the Oslo Bomber Dude wore boxers, briefs, or went commando.

Me: "Poisonous plants shouldn't be eaten."
That Guy: "All plants should be eaten. Some by friends, some by enemies."

Went to the arboretum today. Walked. Walked some more. Walked still more. Did not get to Mordor. Also did not begin forming my tiny, adorable robot army, though it was a near thing.

Nephew: How do you spell 'women'?
Me: Wombyn
Nephew: ... No. Way.
Me: Well, I don't, but apparently there are women who are determined to take the 'men' out of the word.
Nephew: That's stupid.
Me: I agree. It's actually spelled 'women'.
Nephew: (To dad) Dad, did you know some women are spelling it 'wombyn'?
Brother: Yeah. That's why I just call 'em 'broads'.
Nephew: *hysterical laughter* Oh, you're so dead.
Brother: .. You're on the phone with Aunt [Peregrine], aren't you?
Nephew: Uh huh
Brother: Then I'd like to get a postscript in - I would never, not even under torture, ever actually refer to any fine double-x-bearing creature in any manner that would imply disrespect for her inherently divine nature. So please ask her to stop yelling at me.
Nephew: She's not yelling at you.
Brother: Oh, child of mine, yes, she most definitely is.
Nephew: No..? I'm on the phone and she's just listening, not saying anything..
Brother: See?! She's yelling at me with the power of her mind alone! I.. feel the urge to.. go send.. someone flowers.. and .. chocolates.. *door slams*
Nephew: .. He's so weird. You weren't yelling at him. Why did he think you were?
Me: Hypnotic conditioning. I have all my siblings well trained.
Nephew: My family is so weird!
Me: Is that a good or a bad thing?
Nephew: It's a great thing!

NO, I AM NOT PREGNANT. I'm a midwife, so this is something I've put some thought into. God hates me, so at some point, I'll probably be inflicted with a symbiote of my very own. That thought has become much less abhorrent in recent years, directly a fault of the secondary gene donor presumptive. I have a friend who's about to pop, and figured this might be amusing.

1. I didn't experiment with drugs as an angsty teen, I am not starting now.
2. Get near my spine with a needle, I will put it in. your. eye.
3. HeeHeeHeeHaaaaah MY ASS MOTHERF*CKER. Don't tell me how to breathe. I've been doing it since my own birth. I bloody well know how.
4. Birthquakes have never, in the history of ever, caused death. Pissing me off while I'm in labour has an incredibly high risk of causing death and dismemberment.
5. Mucous plugs are fun to play with.
6. So is afterbirth. You can blow it up like a meat balloon.
7. Laying on back, feet in stirrups is absolutely not "natural" in childbirth. I will stand, squat, kneel, crouch, get on all fours, or twist myself into a friggin' pretzel if that's what feels comfortable to me. My body, my baby. Don't like it? GTFO.
8. NPO = NO NO NO. Since nobody's getting near me with anesthesia, there's no reason to restrict my chowing. And really, in what world is it a good idea to have me in pain and not able to bite something?
9. If there's a C-section or episiotomy involved, it better be over my or my baby's DYING BODY. Quite literally, death first. I don't necessarily mean mine or the sprog's.
10. "Pit" is not short for Pitocin. It is short for "PIT OF HELL" - and that is exactly where I will put you if you so much as bring it into the room.


Disclaimer: These are rules for me. Not anyone else. If you want to co-opt them, go for it. I certainly don't expect anyone to make these choices.