mockturtle (hellblazer06) wrote,

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The Birds

Heh, want a lorikeet? One of the regretaably overly tame ones has taken to climbing in the jar we mix up their nectar in to lick it clean. All I have to do is slam the lid shut - snigger. It's awful I know, but you stand there with $5,000 USD worth of bird in a jar in your hand, and not think evil thoughts. Yes, oh dear. Not that I ever would. Not my birdies. There's an old married couple of rainbow lorikeets who crossed the line between wild animal and family pet several months ago. They even expect to be let indoors when it rains, the silly birdies, and will eat from your hand, especially if you have fresh fluffy bread dipped in honey.

The magpies and currawongs aren't much better. I got home late last night and the sun had already set - they like to be fed before sunset - and I was cursed from the treetops as I walked up the lane, but they still waited by the back door to be fed scraps from my plate, even though it was well past their bedtime. As Bro remarked: "we're not nocturnal, but we're willing to learn." They also get up before the sun now, too. Instead of singing to the rising sun, they chorus when I flick the bathroom light on. It's really embarressing. Best though was back during the Olympics, where, because my bus and train routes were given over to spectators, I and everyone else in the suburb had to get up at 4 am to go into the city to work. So one pitch black foggy morning I'm chatting with my Chinese neighbour and the currawong I'd been given to hand raise by its harrassed parents, having discovered its foster mum up and off at such an unreasonable hour, flew over, settled on the bus stop sign and squawked at me loudly and crossly. Of course, I just about had to administer cpr on the spot to the Chinese lady because a big black bird landing beside you and squawking at you is just about the worst omen there is. I tried to explain but I don't think she's ever forgiven me for the misfortune I brought down upon our heads. Hey, maybe that's why my life sucks, because every evening at least half a dozen currawongs call out to me as I come home. And I thought they were just being friendly J

Unfortunately, inspite of my best intentions to rebel and stay up late watching telly, I crashed, totally. All I did see was Get Smart, which featured Harry Who. Thanks to TV1 not cutting it to ribbons it is like watching it anew, it is much sharper, funnier and sexier than it ever was on EvilChannelSeven. The Manitoba joke was worth the price of afmission again.

Dark Angel, getting up to near the end of the series, and I note season 2 is opposite SVU next week. Thanks a lot, EvilChannelSeven. It started out as a comedy of errors then grew deadly serious but the two main characters finally connecting only to be broken apart...well, I know it's a cliche when I do it. But it's fun. And there was Zack, so I was happy. Next week, as I recall, it got really slashy with Zack & Logan just before, well, I've heard he's not really dead but I think 5 minutes is the shortest time from slash moment to death I've ever seen. No, I take it back, there was that Michael Biehn film. Okay, it's one of the shortest slash windows out there.

After that there was the John Saffran show, sort of in the mould of Andrew Denton or Paul McDermott, hey, I guess sticking it to the establishment, and establishment being any government or corporate body, is a truly Australian television genre because while I can think of plenty of like minded shows here (D Gen, Elle McFeast), I can't think of many outside, except that American chap whose name escapes me. The one whose book was nearly pulped for daring to criticise Bush at a time when IdiotPresident was untouchable by the US media (which is like, everyday?). Anyways, always amusing, especially the world music segment, which rocks. And his religious based excursions remind of of my recent discovery as to why I can't get prepaid bus tickets out here in the boonies. Now I just thought the DoT was being slack, this being the boonies n all, but noooo, the answer is far more esoteric. You see, ironic as it is, this little pagan is sitting smack in the land of the Jesus Freaks and they believe prepaid bus tickets are the work of the devil, says so in revelations, apparently, and therefore no stores are allowed to sell them, on pain of harrassment. Which means I have to buy them in bulk whenever I'm in the city. And you wonder why I have problems with Jesus freaks. The ones in my neighbourhood make the Taliban look like, well, extremely loose living peoples, that's what. Sheesh. Nothing like people forcing their views on me to get my goat, as it were.

Anyway, back to JS. Highlight of the show this week was trying to get a Jewish boy band signed by a Christian label (apparently Catholics were just tolerable but all else need not apply) and providing small time suburban performers like the local church organist with celebrity riders, in this case, all the goods and chattels Britney Spears demands backstage. The smile on the old boy's face as the food was spread out for was as sweet as it was silly.

Ha. Co-worker interupted my much needed lunch break and I was very cross. Almost instantly their coke bottle ends up in their lap, spreading large and embarressing stains. Heh, burn me now J

One last note: special and heartfelt and grovelly thanks to Tamara, Dougray fan and human being extraordinaire, who has kindly offered to help me get my pages in much needed order. May your future child be as good as its mother.



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