Two Turtledoves

I was going to write about something else tonight, but I got sidetracked by this thought: Is a turtledove a real animal, or is it like a liger?

Okay, I know that there is supposedly a liger in the Bean Museum of Science and Other Bunk, but since I have never seen it, it must not exist. (What, I'm supposed to walk all the way up by DT for something other than a "Bell Tower Moment"? Yeah right!) The state of Oklahoma and the "theory of relativity" also fall in this category. I haven't seen them ergo they are not real.

Whenever I try to imagine what a turtledove looks like, three mental images lodge in my head:

• The mockturtle from "Through the Looking Glass" AKA "Alice in Wonderland Part Deux" AKA "A Crappy Book Written By A Pedophile On Opium." (Sorry Ronnie, I know you like it.)
• The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles transforming after they discover the "secret of the ooze."
• The Wuzzles, an 80's Disney cartoon where the main characters were two animals combined: Bumblelion, Rhinokey, Butterbear, Eleroo, etc.

So, back to my original question: Are turtledoves real? Are they some freakish genetic hybrid? Birds with a shell? Turtles with wings? (Like the flying Koopas of Mario Land!!) And why the heck would my true love present me with a pair of such mutants. It's not like they can even breed--everyone knows that interspecific hybrid animals cannot reproduce. Just ask the imaginary sterile stuffed liger in the L.L. Bean Museum, but only if you happen to be up by that area of campus (ITBT: In The Bell Tower).

12 Days of Christmas

in honor of the 12 days of christmas
i will write a new blog every day for the next 12 days
or at least until i get tired of it

in honor of my long lost friend leafvayne
i will use no punctuation or capitalization in this post
and space my sentences creatively

it is a common mistake to think that the 12 days of christmas
hereafter to be referred to as the 12doc
are the 12 days preceding christmas
like a countdown
or one of those chocolate picture calendar things

this is false

the 12doc begin on christmas day
and continue until january 5th
which is known as 12th night
january 6th is known as epiphany
which i think is a funny word
and should mean the greatest of all tiffanys or stefanis

on a similar note
if you were to really get the gifts from the 12doc
under your tree you would have
23 birds
50 people
and 5 golden rings

i would like to receive nine ladies dancing
thank you very much

merry christmas
happy hanukkah
and lets not forget
krazy kwanzaa

Top X Ways Dating is Like BYU Sports

1. No scoring.

Grimace

I think we've all had just about enough of this guy. Although he did inspire the greatest jack-o-lantern of all-time. Same to you, buddy.

Slave to Fashion

So last night I made a late-nite (notice the "hip" spelling) trip to Wally-World (notice the 'hip' name for megaconglomerate corporation). I used to hate WalMart because the one in my home town had a caramel corn popper right up front which gave the whole store the sickly sweet smell of death (think fragrance de 'caramel anesthesia'). Now, however, I love it--WalMart is like the United States of companies: bigger, better, with more variety and mullets per capita. Also, as I've often stated in the past, the greatest marriage of capitalism happened when they decided to take a McDonald's and put it in WalMart. That even beats out McChevron.

Anyway, yesterday at approximately 11:14 pm, I paid my respects to Mr. Walton's smiley-face-covered store. I was in search of two new additions to my wardrobe: scrubs and eyeglasses. As much as I appreciate WalMart, I don't go there that often, but it was the only place I could think of that would have those two items post-11 pm on a Tuesday evening. Sure enough, as I walked into the store the song "Scrubs" was playing over the in-store speakers (no lie). Coincidence? I think not. I picked out my Cougar-blue, unisex scrubs (perfect for the Halloween season) in no time and headed for the glasses section.

Now, my eyesight has been going bad for a little over a year now, but I refused to acknowledge that fact until last week I couldn't order Jamba Juice because I couldn't see the sign. So needless to say, I'm in the market for some glasses. I know that my prescription lies somewhere around -0.5 to -1.0 (who needs an optometrist?), so I thought I could just, you know, go buy a pair of $5 reading glasses, except with an opposite prescription. Little did I know that my precious WalMart discriminates against we near-sighted peoples of the world and only sells glasses with a positive prescription. Forget that! From now on I support Target ('hipply' pronounced Tar-jzay).

The Mish

“I come back,” I mumbled to the driver in broken Norwegian as I made my way back to the front of the bus. Stepping of the bottom step and over the snow banked high on the sidewalk, I quickly retrieved the backpack I had forgotten on the bench of the bus stop. As I turned to reboard the bus, the sound of airbrakes being released and the engine revving informed me that the driver had either not heard me or—what is more likely—had not understood what I had said. The bus pulled away from the curb and I sprinted after it, my long winter coat flapping at my knees. Reaching the bus, I began pounding on it as I ran alongside. I could see my would-be fellow passengers alerting the driver to brake, but to no avail. Inevitably, my feet found one of the street’s ubiquitous ice patches, and my chance at getting on the bus literally skidded to a stop. Laying facedown in a snow-filled gutter, the early afternoon dusk settling in as the low-flying winter sun tucked itself behind the Norwegian mountains, I realized just how far from home I really was.