Monday, June 30, 2008
Once there, you may ride the rides, taste the palate pleasing fare and enjoy watching the local talent perform amazing stunts of abject perversity during the enchanting stage shows.
And don't forget to stop by Magic Eddie's BBQ to sample some of his delicious, specially made, grilled MeatKabobs. If you don't care for ketchup or mustard, don't be afraid to ask Eddie for a dallop of his delightful magic mystery sauce. If you feel you need assistance squeezing it on, Magic Eddie will be more than happy to do it for you.
So bring the whole family for a day of wholesome, fun-filled entertainment. I promise it will be a day you'll remember for the rest of your life. Excitement awaits you!
Admission: $49.99 for Adults after 6 p.m.
$10.99 for inbred children between 8 and 8:20 a.m.
Senior Citizens are welcome to hop on Mr. Humpty's Hay Ride
The Hunt For Squirrel Berries will take place when it gets dark
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Presently, this guy's name is Variable.
That's right. Variable. Yeah, he's done the name changing thing before. This time around, though, I don't think it's going to happen with any judge he goes in front of. This time he wants to change his name to Fuck Censorship! With the exclamation point, I guess, to add emphasis. Amusing.
Before that, the guy's name was Snaphappy Fishsuit Mokiligon. No kidding. Try saying that 3 times fast. You get the feeling this freak is making a cry for help, or at least, for attention.
Personally, I wouldn't deny him the name change. Not because I feel that vulgarity for the sake of vulgarity is something that should be celebrated. Not at all. Besides, he is the one who has to live with it. Anyway, I like the proposed name because it sends a message that censorship is wrong. Unfortunately, you sometimes have to hit the public over the head with a verbal blunt instrument to get the attention a serious topic badly needs. Are there other ways to do this in a more "sensitive" manner. Sure, there is. I don't debate that.
Censorship is serious because it tears away at our supposed freedom of speech. It dictates what you are allowed to see and allowed to learn. For example, the government restricts what you know about the interrogations inflicted on military prisoners. Presently, there are books still being banned around the world. Corporations, that own the networks, tell the networks what can be shown and said everyday. Many of today's scientists are being censored when they speak out against pollution, global warming and other dangerous threats to our world. These are a just a few examples.
Censorship suppresses ideas and encourages ignorance.
Under the First Amendment to the United States Constitution, each of us has the right to read, view, listen to, and disseminate constitutionally protected ideas, even if a censor finds those ideas offensive.
But sadly, this isn't the reality of today's world. Sadder still, is the unwillingness of so many of us to fight for the First Amendment.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
I couldn't sleep last night so I spent much of it dickering around on this computer. Because of this and the other thing, I maybe wound up with two hours sleep. The other thing is some asshole calling me repeatedly just to listen to the sound of my voice. We have caller ID on our phone. I would look at the screen to see what idiot was torturing me. Only one word came up, every time.
That was it: shrink.
What the hell? Maybe God or someone else was trying to tell me I needed a shrink. I don't know. Lord knows I think I need one sometimes.... especially nowadays. Anyway this idiot was calling me just as I would get into the REM phase of sleep. I would wake up every time, speak in tongues, knock the cat off the bed and reach for the freaking phone while morning drool dripped off my chin. Fun ahoy!
And I can't turn the ringer off. I have to keep the little bastard on in case my father (who is in poor health) might call me.
This was a bad situation, particularly because I knew I would have to do a lot of thinking today. I had to talk to someone in the medical profession about some bill they think we owe money on. I had to talk to my lawyer about my disability claim. I had to talk to the pharmacist for refills on my meds. All of this takes a working brain. And my brain was mush. All because of....
The good news is, is that I was able to make the calls without sounding like a tongue-speaking, snake-handling, religious freak.
And I only slobbered a little bit between calls.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Friday, June 20, 2008
Yes? No? Maybe?
I can tell you what is not fun. And it happened to me earlier this week in a doctor's office. But first, I need to give you a bit of background story.
You see, since October, I've had this pain in both of my arms. I wouldn't describe it as a sharp pain. More like a dull ache that runs from my elbows to my forearms. The pain increases when I lift something or when I straighten my arms. You're most likely thinking the same thing I thought for awhile. Tennis elbow. And that's what my orthopedist said at first. He gave me some anti-inflammatory/pain medication and a set of instructions which explained how to do these arm exercises that would help heal my arms.
Neither worked. For several months, I used the medication, tried the exercises and put heating pads and cold packs on my arms. All of which offered small comfort.
So I go back to the orthopedist. He tells me I may have damaged nerves in my arms that may be the problem. He tells me that I need to see a certain neurologist. I tell him that's fine. I just want to get this resolved. I have enough health problems as it is with my diabetes, high blood pressure, heel spurs, chronic sinusitis and- well, let's put it this way- I need a new body. If anybody out there knows where I can pick one up, drop me a line.
Earlier this week, my wife and I went to Dr. Biddiqui's (not his real name) office for the appointment, regarding my arms. Biddiqui is a neurologist, around fifty years old and Indian, in descent. The only reason I mention he is Indian is because of his heavy accent. He's hard to understand. Granted, I'm deaf in one ear (another body part I need replacing) but his accent was so damn thick, even my wife could hardly understand him. And my wife can hear an ant fart.
After signing in, the nurse soon calls out my name and we're taken back to the patient waiting room. While we sit in the room, waiting for the doctor, the nurse comes in. She asks why I'm there. I tell her it's for an examination for my arms. The nurse glances down at her clipboard, then gives me a puzzled look. She asks, "You mean you don't know that you are here for an EMG and a NVC?" I inquired, "A what and a what?" Obviously annoyed, she hurriedly explains what the abbreviations stand for. When she tells me, it still doesn't help. But since I've been suffering with this situation for far too long, I agree to do go on with the show. The nurse tells me to take off my shirt and lay down on the table.
The fun begins when Dr. Biddiqui enters the room, mumbles something incomprehensible and slowly strokes my arms and my hands. If I were someplace else, I'd think he was trying to put some moves on me. Then I'd punch him in the mouth. Anyway, noticing I haven't understood a word he's said, he repeats his question a couple more times. With my wife's assistance, I finally understand that he is asking if I can feel it when he touches me in this area or another. So I go on to tell him, in regards to the parts of my arms and hands he is touching, what I feel.
Then he tells me to relax as he brings over the testing machinery. I can discern that electricity will be involved in this examination. When he places the electrodes on my arms and hands, my sphincter tightens. He says, "You will relax now." I close my eyes. A lightning bolt suddenly hits at one point in my arm. I give a little yelp. With a racing heart, I shout, "Wow!" He nods his head, studying his analysis monitor on the side. "It will be okay", he mutters, "Just relax." More shocks to my arm continue. Zap. Zap. Zap. Zap. At least nine or ten electrocutions are generously zapped along my arm and hand, one at a time. I arch my back and shudder with each zap, letting out an "Uhhhhnnn" noise. Of course, each time, the good doctor advises me to relax while I, at different moments, wonder if I've shit my pants a tiny bit.
After pulling the electrodes off my arm and hand, Dr. Biddiqui says, "Now we're done with the shocking." A sense of relief washes over me. The neurologist instructs me to lay on my side towards the wall. "Lie still," he orders. I waited for what was to come in gleeful anticipation. Yeah, right. A few anguish-free moments pass. Then, one at a time, he pushes needles directly into the muscles of my arm. With each poke and push, he turns to study the graph and spikes on his monitor. I let out a squeal each time he pushes down on the needles. By this time, my wife looks around the corner to get a better angle of the show. At least, that what she told me later. Personally, I think she might have been covering her eyes with her hands the whole time.
Dr. Biddiqui asked how I was doing at one point. I answered, "Good times." Then I thought I had better rephrase that. I stated, "I'm doing alright." I didn't want him to believe I was enjoying myself. He might have tried ramming a letter opener into my eye.
When both procedures were over, I almost fell off the table while getting down. Most likely due to the exhaustion and pain experienced from the hour long examination. Thankfully, my wife was there to drive my sorry ass home. Before leaving, I asked the doctor what he found out. He told me he couldn't tell me. Biddiqui said he had to send the report of his findings to my orthopedic doctor because he was the one who ordered the procedures. He continued to explain that the orthopedic doctor would go over the results with me. I would have argued with this logic but I was too tired and sore. I just wanted to go home, go to bed and not dream of being a human pin cushion.
Click http://millercenter.uchicago.edu/learnaboutpn/evaluation/neuroexam/index.shtmlf for a brief summary of the diagnostic tests (torture) I endured.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Best of all, was the entertainment after dinner. All of us went outside for the wonderful spectacle that was to begin. My sister and brother-in-law took a duck, one of many, from their barn and placed it on a wooden board. Carefully, the duck's neck was placed between rows of 4 inch nails. Once it's neck was stretched out, my brother-in-law swung the hatchet down and cut the duck's neck almost in half. The duck struggled. I think he was trying to say, "Hey, what are you doing? You've allowed me to gorge on food for months. You petted my little head when I was feeling blue. You guys treated me like a pet. So now you're cutting my head off?" On the second whack, the head came off, releasing a fountain of blood that continued to spurt out of the top of it's torso. The children quickly grabbed the head off the blood soaked ground and began to play with it.
A few moments later, my sister accepted the duck head from her five year old. Moving it's mouth up and down, she made quack-quack noises, causing us to laugh.
It was fascinating to watch. The torso of the bird was on it's back. The decapitated duck's body flapped it's wings while the feet moved as if it were still walking. I thought of that old commercial where the old lady cries out, "I've fallen and I can't get up". I had to laugh. My nine year old niece brought me the duck's head. I was curious and opened it's beak or mouth and pulled on it's tongue. It felt like rubber. It had little bump like thingies on the bottom of it, too.
Then the duck torso was brought to the old wooden table for the de-feathering and slaughter. My sister ripped the feathers from the body for the next few minutes while the knives were brought out from the kitchen. My sister and brother-in-law took turns cutting the skin away from the meat. I worked on the duck, also, delighting in this experience that was new to me.
We had cut and taken as much meat as we could. When the task was complete, my sister bagged up the duck meat and gave it to me. I was grateful. I can't remember the last time I've eaten duck. I do recall enjoying the taste of it, though. I've read where it should be prepared and cooked a certain way or else it has a gamy taste to it.
If anyone reading this post has a simple and tasty recipe for duck, please share it with me.
All in all, we had a great time during Father's Day. And I learned how to kill and skin a duck.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
It all started when this twisted version of a clown came into being in the comic books.
Then there was the ultra campy version of the Joker in the 60's WHAM!-POW!-KONK! Batman and Robin tv show. Cesar Romero was the actor playing the Joker in those days. You could tell he was having a ball with the part. And Romero had an insane laugh, man.
Little Known Fact: Cesar Romero refused to shave his mustache off for the part, even though in the comic books, the Joker never had one. He demanded that he be allowed to keep it, as part of his contract. As a result, the makeup artists had to use the white paint over his mustache.
Jack Nicholson did a fantastic, manic job as the Joker in Tim Burton's Batman. Here's a few choice quotes from Jack in the movie:
You IDIOT! You made me. Remember? You dropped me into that vat of chemicals. That wasn't easy to get over, and don't think that I didn't try.
Now comes the part where I relieve you, the little people, of the burden of your failed and useless lives. But, as my plastic surgeon always said: if you gotta go, go with a smile.
Batman... Batman... Can somebody tell me what kind of a world we live in, where a man dressed up as a *bat* gets all of my press? This town needs an enema!
"Winged freak terrorizes"? Wait'll they get a load of ME!
Never rub another man's rhubard.
Next up is Heath Ledger. A talented actor who died too young from an accidental overdose of sleeping pills. Heath said in an interview that the role of playing such a homicidal maniac like the Joker took it's toll on him. He implied, at least it is my perception, that the role of Joker kept him awake at nights.
I now offer you a clip of the new Batman movie coming in July. Enjoy!
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Hell, I still do.
Oh shit. You believe it, don't you?
But really, early on, I thought Batman was cool. I had the Batman mask. The Batman periscope toy. The Batman dolls. But, uh, I wouldn't consider it a doll. Ahem. I watched the campy 1960's show and would sing the "DA DA DA Batman" theme song over and over until mom and dad would tell me to shut my yap. Today, he is still my favorite superhero. Spidey comes in a far second.
For those of you who do not know who the greatest superhero of all time is, I give you this no-frills description:
Batman is a fictional comic book superhero, co-created by artist Bob Kane and writer Bill Finger(although only Kane receives official credit) and published by DC Comics. The character first appeared in Detective Comics #27 (May 1939). Batman's secret identity is Bruce Wayne, a wealthy playboy and industrialist.
But here's a better one:
Batman, for me, is a very human hero. He has faults like the rest of us. He's damaged, like some of us. When he saw his parents being murdered, it scarred him for life. I've always felt sorry for the character. This hero uses his mind and his inventions to battle foes. There are no superpowers he can fall back on. Batman prefers to work alone because he is afraid of the harm that may happen to those who assist him in his fight against the evil and corrupt. He has had his share of sidekicks, however, like Robin and Batgirl. He is a prime detective, as well. Using his wits, he will employ every source of information to find clues that will lead him to a villain or a cure for some illness a villain has spread. Lastly, Batman wages a war of good and evil within himself, almost continuously. In this degree, I believe we can all say the same about ourselves.
I'm really looking forward to the new movie. I enjoyed the last one. It really gave Batman more depth. It opens in US theatres, nationwide, July 18th. I'll be there, dude, singing, "Da Da Da Da Da Da Da Da Batman!'
And then, the audience will pounce upon me like a gang of crazed hyenas.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Recently, I posted a topic of discussion over at blogcatalog.com. I asked, what's the best prank you ever pulled? www.blogcatalog.com/discuss/entry/whats-the-best-prank-youve-ever-pulled
The following entries are the best so far. Enjoy. Links to the prank author's website have been added to each one.
Here is a short list:
1. Filled garbage can full of water. Leaned said garbage can up against neighbor's dorm room door. They opened door and turned their room into a pool.
2. Emptied a bag of 1,000 frozen lady bugs behind closet of another neighbor in my college dorm. Frozen lady bugs do not die when frozen, so when they thaw out they are quite alive. The entire building became infested with lady bugs.
3. Coated the door knobs of my dorm neighbor's with a fish paste fertilizer. It is extremely sticky and smells horrific. It is also really hard to remove with household soaps.
4. Placed explicit porn videos in friend's luggage knowing his mother unpacked his luggage when he visited home during college. He made mommy do his laundry. She was disappointed to discover he watched "Santa Cums Butt Once a Year."There are quite a few more, but my mind is tired. blog.seattle-duiattorney.com
We used to go camping a lot when I was young. My sister and I got those little white popper firecracker things...you know what I am talking about? You throw them to the ground and they crack/pop loudly...forgot what they are really called. Anyway, we would go to the showers/bathrooms at the campground and stick them under the toilet sinks. Then we would go outside and wait for someone to go in and use the toilet. Someone would sit on it and it would POP and they would shriek. It really was hilarious! www.kellybax.com
I taped a hardcore gay porn pic to the back of my friends credit card. The cashier sure did look at him funny when he handed her the card. haplesshermit.typepad.com
I know of a guy in my town whose friends held him down at his bachelor party the night before his wedding and painted his...um...member blue.Also, I worked at the YMCA when I was in college and people were always playing pranks. There was a girl from Costa Rica who worked at the front desk. These 2 camp counselors who worked there kept asking her to page people-only they weren't real people, just dirty names. So I would be working and suddenly hear things like this on the PA system: "Mike Hunt please come to the front desk, Mike Hunt." bobbygrl.blogspot.com
Back in the NAVY, we had a guy on our ship that got into a tech school and was shipping out the next day to Tennessee (We were stationed in Virginia Beach). we took him out, got him all plastered, until he passed out at the hotel room, flat out on the floor with the bottle of Jack still in his hand. We got a couple of girls to do some "Girls Gone Wild pictures with him, then me and three other "good pals" tea-bagged him while taking pictures of that. Two weeks later, I receive a phone call from Tennessee, from our buddy, calling us everything but human beings, since his wife received the pictures in the mail.Two months later he called us thanking us for helping expedite the divorce. No One ever liked the bible thumping winch. emailrubbish.blogspot.com
It wasn't me but a friend had a family reunion in California, picked her up at the airport, she'd never been to his house, he got her all stoked that the fam was waiting to see her, he dropped her off, said go on in, and he'd park the car, it wasn't even his house! She walked in on complete strangers... good thing they had a sense of humor! soul-to-soul.com
This one took a lot of timing and a lot of assistance:Created an imaginary friend for a friend of mine. We'll call the imaginary one Fred and my real friend Buddy.1. Buddy would meet up with a group of friends and they'd tell him that Fred just left.2. Someone would see Buddy and tell him Fred had been asking for him. 3. His mother would leave messages that Fred had just called.This drove Buddy crazy and he started imagining he knew Fred and who he was. After 30 days on April Fools day we told him the truth. Fortunately he thought it was hysterical. howisbradley.blogspot.com
I am not much of a prankster though one time last summer I was at a friends home where the guest bathroom window was where the outside deck was. There was a bunch of people sitting around on lounges and chairs talking there most of the night.Myself an another person hatched this plan early on - we opened the bathroom window (it was close to where everyone was sitting) and went about our business for an hour or so. Finally I loaded up several gallons of water maybe 7 or 9 I can't remember. and stored them under the sink, he was sitting with the group under the window and excused himself to use the bathroom. He goes in and with the window open he starts slowly pouring the water into the toilet bowl. From the outside it sounded like the loudest and longest p-ss anyone had ever taken - the looks on the faces of these people was at first shock because they could h ear him, then awe and amazement at the duration of the event..it honestly went on forever and the whole shocked awe and embarrassed looks of these people was great. wonderlandornot.net
Called my baby sister Nancy from work. Or should say a friend did. April Fool's Day ya know. She works for the Railroad and had just got off work. At any rate he called her pretending to be an hour away and asked for instructions to get to her house for a delivery. She says I didn't order anything. He says "Well I got this here Transport truck full of canned Tuna. Coming from Florida ". She freaked. Course she is tired. LOL . She begins emptying her garage, neighbors garage etc.She waited, and waited and waited some more. So I called her back after lunch. I had to wait and let her stew about it. Her comment was (not a very nice one either) I don't have F**king time right now. WAiting for this stupid ******* ***** driver for over 2 hours now and still no show. Called her back 1/2 hour later and she is fuming by now. All I said was April Fool's and hung up. Took about 10 minutes. She had called my house looking for me and then called me at work. Yup good thing she was 3 hours away or she would have killed me. LOL. wendysreel.com
And lastly, I'd like to add one of my own....
I had some wholesome fun with a Jehovah's Witness one day. Two of them, actually. They knocked on the door. I opened it. Then the preaching came out of their mouths in a fast paced slew of words. I pretended to listen, with a calm demeanor. Then I told them I have already been saved by my sweet lord, Lucifer. They gave me puzzled looks. I continued to explain why Satan was my best buddy and how he could offer them the same deal I got for my soul. For a few moments, they just stood there, but then they commenced to explain why their choice of religion was better. While they blathered, I rolled my eyes to the back of my head. At this, they stopped. I raised my arms high into the air and shouted, "Blasphemy!" Then I growled. They left quickly when I did that.
By the way, I'm not a Satanist. I was just having fun with the Witnesses because I find them annoying. They always seem to knock on the door just when you're about to eat or watch a favorite tv show. They're as bad as telemarketers. Heh heh.
Send all hate mail and pranks to me at: email@example.com
I shall file them into the appropriate bins.
Friday, June 6, 2008
She wrote an email to family and friends, describing the events, along with pictures of the damage the storms had caused. I've included one of those photos and her description of what happened.
"We had big winds and not big fun on Tuesday & Wednesday. The main casualties were the pear tree, the swing set, and the big white pine between our house and the driveway. The pear tree had survived 2 lightening strikes and gobs of termites and wood-pecker feedings. Now it is snapped at about 1/3 of the way up and the top 2/3rds broke the swing set down. The big, majestic white pine in front of the house was snapped from about 15' up and the top was tossed across the driveway onto our little camper."
"I had been having one of my twice-a-year phone conversations w/ Gretchen when the lightening began. Ironically, part of our conversation was about my (flaky?) continual awareness of my role in protecting my kids and my interest in self-preservation, self-defense, etc. Anywho, all hell kind of broke loose about 2 minutes after I hung up the phone. The rain became torrential. Lightening strikes seemed to occur very close to the house. The whole house felt like it was getting sucked, and the noise from the wind and snapping branches became almost deafening. It was like the whole house was in a giant car wash. I yelled for the kids to get their shoes and socks on, grabbed 2 flashlights and a hatchet, and then we went into the mouth of hell that is our storm cellar."
During my phone conversation, my sister related that the storm cellar was flooded with water and infested with spiders and God knows what else.
Photo of some of the damage.
There were reports that several tornadoes had touched down in towns close to our general area. One tornado caused a tree to slam down on the back of my friend's house in Rising Sun, IN. He's still not completely sure of the destruction, if any, it has caused. I'm going to go there tomorrow and check it out for myself.
I remember 1974 as the year for the worst tornado outbreak in this country. On April 3 and 4 of '74, three hundred and fifteen people had lost their lives to the 148 tornadoes that swept across the country. I believe those of us in the tri-state area of Ohio, Indiana and Kentucky were hit the hardest. Sayler Park in Ohio was devastated.
During that time, I was 10 years old. It was an exciting time for my sister and I. Not so for my parents. We were huddled in the basement, in the dark of our spooky family room, with flashlights and a radio. We listened to the warnings, the directions the tornadoes were taking and so on. The thunder and sounds of hail stones were giving us headaches, they were so loud. Everyone once in a while, mom or dad went upstairs to get us something to eat from the kitchen or to briefly look out the windows. Mom was trying to calm us down. She was scared. Of course, dad was, too. I bet we spent at least 12 to 14 hours down there. Later, when it was all over, mom would have terrible nightmares about us being sucked up by twisters, for a long time.
The highlight of our experience was when dad decided to have a look out our basement window and shouting out that there was a tornado coming down over the hill. My heart stopped a beat. I felt like crapping my pants. I ran out of the family room and got to see my first tornado. It was surreal, nightmarish. A long, dark, snaky creature connected to the sky. Dad commanded me to go the family room. By then, my sister and mom joined dad and I and saw the thing for themselves. We were freaked out, to say the least.
Lucky for us, the tornado turned toward the east and lifted above the ground before coming toward the house. Hours later, when it was all over with and the skies had cleared, my sister and I went out into the yard and collected baseball sized hail stones and put them in the cooler. We wanted to have souvenirs. It was dad's idea and I was eager to do it, too. Heh heh.
We were joined minutes later by neighbors who related their experiences during the event. It seemed everyone came into our yard, talking and laughing, expressing how fortunate we were to be alive. It was like a festival, of sorts. What a grand ol' time we had, after the potential for tornado sucking death had dissipated.
This is what the tornado, close to mom and dad's place, looked like. Lighter though, in color.
Here's a link to the video showing the events of the tornado outbreak of 1974. Includes footage of the tornadoes that swept the tri-state area.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Statements that Iraq had a partnership with al Qaeda were wrong and unsupported by intelligence, the report said.
Read the story here:
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
You must do
You must obey
Their lies are "truth"
You must consume
Learn the pop trends
and perform them well
Go watch the flick
that was meant to sell
Eager souls can't hide
Toward pro athletes
Give worshipful acclaim
You must do
You must obey
You cannot choose
You must consume
Spend money on garbage
directed at your demographic
Send a kid to war
For Their greed and Their trick
Swallow your self esteem
and allow censorship to spread
Hide your eyes
and join the dead
Gosh, that was a real hoot. A real pick-me-up, aye?
Here's the other. A much more serious bit of inspiration.
I stand over
to watch the water clear
It is time to unload my inner essence
and comes forth from within me
Sense of relief
Serenity it brings
Enrichment of the moment
Fulfillment of empty spirit
I stand once more
Look to see my product
And wipe away the residue
of my past consumptions
and watch all of it swirl away
Heartwarming, is it not?
Monday, June 2, 2008
"The experimental manipulation didn't just improve their looks in the eyes of the female barn swallows, it actually changed their body chemistry," said one of the researchers.
"A male barn swallow can't look in a mirror and assess his social status," the researcher added. "But if he flies into a group of other swallows, the birds will quickly assess it for him and give him a sense of where he fits in."
The female is looking at newly painted dude bird in the group and thinking, Yummy. Your nest or mine? Hubba hubba.
Male barn swallows given darker breast colours bred earlier in the season and fathered more young. They also lost weight. That could be due to fighting with other male barn swallows and continuously doing the wild thing with all the horny female birds. That takes a lot out of a bird, ya know?
The researchers concluded there is strong evidence that color is an important factor of male quality. Comparable signals are seen among deer with big antlers or birds with flashy tail feathers. They suggested the same thing goes on with humans males. One researcher suggested that when a guy puts on a new suit, he feels like a million bucks. I guess his testerone level, supposedly, takes a jump up like a red painted, cocky barn swallow.
And that's when the ladies come-a-runnin'. I guess.
Funny. I don't get that from a suit. I just feel real sweaty in my armpit and nether regions. In fact, wearing a suit makes me feel stiff- but not in a good way.
I'm glad I shared that with you.