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Friday, June 25, 2010

Do you think peanuts are called PEAnuts because the shell acts as a wannabe pea pod and peanuts wish they were peas?

Wellllll it seems it's high time I take this forsaken blog off the dusty, forgotten shelf, blow off the dust like the old, lost, artifact it has now become and get it's cogs turning once more. I've got a hungry black cat with tuna breath sitting on the chair next to me, begging me to let him cheat on his diet, some triumphant, get-back-on-the-horse-and-kick-some- blogging ass (if I may be so bold as to make up and use that term) music, a brother telling me I look haggard (i.e. sweaty, baggy-eyed, and tired-this could be thought of as encouragement to do something productive if you're a glass-half-full type of person...in that case stop reading this blog) and an outstanding case of insomnia.
Why yes, of course I have to wake up at 7 am tomorrow. That would be why I'm writing on this blog now and procrastinating laying in bed for two more hours in almost complete darkness (my neighbors must go through light bulbs like water) and listen to my guinea pig drink a whole bottle of water with such vigor you would think he was trying to watch his figure by using the poor, green bottle as a punching bag.
You know you're life is full and rich when you spend your time (two birds in one hour to be exact) giving dead birds proper burials in your backyard. Now, it's tricky business burying birds is. Depending on the location of the bird and the strength of your stomach and wits, the steps in transporting the bird to its grave can vary. In some cases, you must get two sturdy sticks, (this depends on the size of the bird but usually they are small enough)and fashion them in a chopstick like manner to get the bird from place to place. This sounds barbaric, but, rest assured that the bird's spirit is rooting for you to take it away from the maggot infested sidewalk or gutter where it left the world of earth-birdies and wouldn't want you to give it a proper burial at the expense of your health.
Now, you must find a nice place in nearby garden or dirt pile and dig with what you have. Be creative. For example: I was walking home from the D.I. after buying an assortment of spoons and forks and happened upon a deceased winged friend. I was then able to let it R.I.P. If worse comes to worse, use your hands. It won't kill you, but, if it did, you'd be the one rotting on the sidewalk eh??
Lastly, find a nice pretty rock to mark its resting place and say something nice in parting like, "You were the best party-animal-bird I knew." (you don't actually know these specific characteristics, but, it livens things up as much as things can be livened up at funerals) or, "You were the most devoted Lady GaGa fan I knew."
Thus, the art of bird funerals.

5 comments:

Hannah said...

I love your writing.... It has great imagry!

And love the new backgroud too--seriously, if I could steal your style and ability to make things out of nothing, I would be a happy gal. Use that talent.

And to the gutter bird that we found at Franny's: R.I.P, little man.

Hannah said...

P.S: Thanks for including me in your bio--makes me blush. Although, I did notice that the things that you admired having to do somewhat with me were pre-used by the Macks.

I.E. Playing with flan, playing with hannah........flan's house, hannah's house........ the macks, hannah.......

Haha no, I'm totally kidding. Really, thank you.

Olive said...

Well thanks...haha also, I wrote that bio a REALLY long time ago and none of us would have blogs if it weren't for you :) I love reading your blog because you have hilarious writing and you dont whine about your life like some people we know cough* cough*

Megan said...

Olivia, I very much enjoy this. Very much.

Veritas said...

I. can't.stop.laughing....LIVVY! You never cease to amaze me with your gift for just about everything--dry, cynical, sarcastic, wicked humor is truly a genetic virtue & you have it down to a wittastic art...keep writing please!!