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a little bird told me
Mar. 22nd, 2017 09:40 pmIt feels weird to not be counting down to the vernal equinox.
Emily went into the refrigerator and presented to me a huge guinea pig and said "Enjoy." If we were raptors, this would be a declaration of undying love despite the fact that I have called her Sarah multiple times. We're not, though, and all I can say to that is "we need some kind of guillotine."
The woman at the front desk has been teaching Keeley to whistle certain songs. I thought it was the Andy Griffith song
Jen says "I used to like that bird."
Jen fails at onigiri, that is to say, she used white wine vinegar and not rice vinegar. After that, she ate avocado cheesecake. Whilst Anna ate a potent-smelling rice cake with picked radish that reminded Primrose of kimchi.
One of the rodos looks like he's heading to a punk rock concert but he needs safety pins in his nose and tight pants. Another rodo isn't afraid of Shorty but then again, there's no reason to be afraid of Shorty unless you have some kind of deathly allergy to dogs.
We're not getting fancy organic dirt for the woodcock. His dirt was currently brown water.
We have a turkey. I think his leg is messed up.
The egg removal (since most people feed their parakeets with mixed seeds alone, they get hypocalcemic and don't have the muscle strength to push out the eggs) was far more elegant than I'd imagine it to be. Push the egg out and then cut away the membranous stuff without cutting any blood vessels, and then push that shit back in. Ninety percent of the time, she'll just get rid of the dead tissue on her own.
More elegant than drawing blood from the hedgehog was, anyway. The blood looked kind of watery and wasn't clotting.
The egg is the size of a jellybean.
We looked at more blood, this time from a ferret with kidney failure. The only non-human animal kidney transplants is done in is cats, and only in certain location and only if you adopt the donor and only if you pay, as they say in Turkmenistan, kop kop kop baksheesh. Which means "a lot lot lot of money."
We can't do abdominal surgery on hippos because the sutures aren't strong enough and all the viscera will fall back out.
I've been listening to Tori Amos a lot for multiple reasons but I don't feel like I need to recommend her music to Ashley. I did recommend Sarah Rabdau and the Self-Employed Assassins. I didn't tell her about conservatory concerts. Gabriella tried to explain it to me but I didn't get much out of it aside from "it's similar to the BSO schedule otherwise" and "there are students from other schools or something who play in June" and "rumble rumble rattle rattle." I did tell her about Dreamscape and she says she's more of a night person than she is a morning person.
She's been listening to a lot of Fleet Foxes lately. I thought of Bulldog's song and there are a lot of covers of Mykonos. I guess it's a single and I guess that I didn't know because the only rock station in Boston is still playing Puddle of Mudd and Creed.
Ashley says she'll be on the lookout for Moreau paintings. I told her to toss a candle of life at Marine Le Pen, or maybe a farplane wind. But not holy water. You're thinking of Melania Trump. And definitely don't mix together a candle of life with some holy water unless she's undead. Try a supreme gem and a door to tomorrow.
On the other hand, the Netherlands dodged a bullet. On the other other hand, the Party for Freedom only lost because the mainstream right wing party was trying to appeal to the PVV's base. An interesting thing about Dutch politics is that there are a lot of single-issue parties. One of those parties' single issue is misogyny. Misogyny and wanting to restrict voting to male heads of households. Lovely.
I told her that it's getting harder and harder for me to tell the difference between the alt-right and the mainstream conservatives.
burning question: how long until there's a Simpsons episode entitled Breit Bart? I'm surprised Rubbercat hasn't thought of that, although there's an episode in which Poochie is coopted as a hate symbol by online Nazis and Roger Myers III turns to Bart and Lisa.
Emily went into the refrigerator and presented to me a huge guinea pig and said "Enjoy." If we were raptors, this would be a declaration of undying love despite the fact that I have called her Sarah multiple times. We're not, though, and all I can say to that is "we need some kind of guillotine."
The woman at the front desk has been teaching Keeley to whistle certain songs. I thought it was the Andy Griffith song
Jen says "I used to like that bird."
Jen fails at onigiri, that is to say, she used white wine vinegar and not rice vinegar. After that, she ate avocado cheesecake. Whilst Anna ate a potent-smelling rice cake with picked radish that reminded Primrose of kimchi.
One of the rodos looks like he's heading to a punk rock concert but he needs safety pins in his nose and tight pants. Another rodo isn't afraid of Shorty but then again, there's no reason to be afraid of Shorty unless you have some kind of deathly allergy to dogs.
We're not getting fancy organic dirt for the woodcock. His dirt was currently brown water.
We have a turkey. I think his leg is messed up.
The egg removal (since most people feed their parakeets with mixed seeds alone, they get hypocalcemic and don't have the muscle strength to push out the eggs) was far more elegant than I'd imagine it to be. Push the egg out and then cut away the membranous stuff without cutting any blood vessels, and then push that shit back in. Ninety percent of the time, she'll just get rid of the dead tissue on her own.
More elegant than drawing blood from the hedgehog was, anyway. The blood looked kind of watery and wasn't clotting.
The egg is the size of a jellybean.
We looked at more blood, this time from a ferret with kidney failure. The only non-human animal kidney transplants is done in is cats, and only in certain location and only if you adopt the donor and only if you pay, as they say in Turkmenistan, kop kop kop baksheesh. Which means "a lot lot lot of money."
We can't do abdominal surgery on hippos because the sutures aren't strong enough and all the viscera will fall back out.
I've been listening to Tori Amos a lot for multiple reasons but I don't feel like I need to recommend her music to Ashley. I did recommend Sarah Rabdau and the Self-Employed Assassins. I didn't tell her about conservatory concerts. Gabriella tried to explain it to me but I didn't get much out of it aside from "it's similar to the BSO schedule otherwise" and "there are students from other schools or something who play in June" and "rumble rumble rattle rattle." I did tell her about Dreamscape and she says she's more of a night person than she is a morning person.
She's been listening to a lot of Fleet Foxes lately. I thought of Bulldog's song and there are a lot of covers of Mykonos. I guess it's a single and I guess that I didn't know because the only rock station in Boston is still playing Puddle of Mudd and Creed.
Ashley says she'll be on the lookout for Moreau paintings. I told her to toss a candle of life at Marine Le Pen, or maybe a farplane wind. But not holy water. You're thinking of Melania Trump. And definitely don't mix together a candle of life with some holy water unless she's undead. Try a supreme gem and a door to tomorrow.
On the other hand, the Netherlands dodged a bullet. On the other other hand, the Party for Freedom only lost because the mainstream right wing party was trying to appeal to the PVV's base. An interesting thing about Dutch politics is that there are a lot of single-issue parties. One of those parties' single issue is misogyny. Misogyny and wanting to restrict voting to male heads of households. Lovely.
I told her that it's getting harder and harder for me to tell the difference between the alt-right and the mainstream conservatives.
burning question: how long until there's a Simpsons episode entitled Breit Bart? I'm surprised Rubbercat hasn't thought of that, although there's an episode in which Poochie is coopted as a hate symbol by online Nazis and Roger Myers III turns to Bart and Lisa.
