A transvestite, bird vomit and the uber stimuli

I have often discussed the recovery of the watershed. You should be bemused to know that there are now three known nesting pairs of bald eagles in the Philadelphia urban environs. Recently, a few football fans were fined $1000 each for messing with a local nest in some sort of playoff fervor.

In terms of continued strange manifestations of success, I was recently sought out at a gathering because of my relationship with Polly, the largest bird of all. As you may recall, we were not certain that she could come here to be rescued. She fears men. However, it has been over a year since her landing and I can actually share raspberry newtons with her. This is if, and only if, I blow my fart whistle.

A gentleman approached me to introduce himself and he indicated that he has a similar situation that has come about due to a death in his family. Rather than take my approach, that of a giant plaything, he has decided to disguise himself. He described how he puts on a wig, makeup, a dress and heels. He feels certain that this is the optimal method of avian training, and states he derives great satisfaction in that he is reducing stress for his pet.

Indeed. No stranger to the panto tradition, I often indicate that Polly's behavior is due to her pining for the fjords. However, this bird is very much alive.

I had been eating at a buffet during this discourse. It turns out I was consuming treats intended for birds, not people. Could I please leave some food for the animals?

This networking is a group that we attend to support my main squeeze and her attempt at being a Realtor. A male eclectus sat on my shoulder. While I was chatting he was handing me bits of granola, which I enjoyed. Of course, this was from the same buffet, but I was spared scorn because the young bird was offering it to me after he had originally consumed it. I had no idea as I was crunching away, until people expressed their revulsion.

The uber stimuli, by the way, is the heavy handed and bloated response to the much maligned economic situation. How astute that the various powers that be have figured out that there may be a problem. Now the gaseous distention of a new bubble will begin, subsequent to this hasty mess. I hope to position myself on my own personal pustule.

It would appear that I am the only person in our family that may take advantage of this upcoming opportunity. Of course, this distorted boom will bust, but I will cross that bridge if I come to it. We would welcome a world where preserving ill gotten gains could become my personal challenge.

So I am clearing the decks and attempting to determine where I should squat for the great venting of this Federal cloaca. Since I love all things continental, I am especially pleased that the only certain outcome for us is that the Dollar will become the new Lira. Ciao!