A FOETAL MISTAKE

BIRD WRITES:...

I have long suspected that my actuation into being was not of the intelligent design category, if you get my midriff. In the eternal search for meaning and the ever elusive obelisk of strife, I have mused over many a Smoothie and tea with honey about my beginnings. After several phone calls... well, one, actually, in which my mother feigned bad hearing AGAIN, I established that "We really can't remember, dear," in answer to my question "Was I planned?" The version of what really happened has changed so much over the years that I may as well conclude that my parents have never been in control, shall we say, of either their respective destinies or mine. It is with a heavy heart that after all these long years of enquiry I must conclude that, well, basically, my parents were "only in it for the nookie", and considering that by all accounts it was probably their last nookie, I am certainly not going to do any finger pointing. Indeed, I feel guilty that my conception led directly to a loss of interest in what is clearly one of the most pleasurable gifts from the gods.

So... why does it matter? Planned? Unplanned? It doesn't. Intention is overrated. I intend, and have intended, to do many, many things. Intention is an illusory tromtopolomorphous construct if ever there was one. Ha! Try Googling that, my bloggy fiends, and see what you get. At the end of the daze, haze, maze, whatever, I am. And I assert myself, or wound myself as best as I can. As we all do. Or should do. Life... is the opposite of death. None of us should forget that. I am reminded of the words of the great Poe in that old cheesy '70s TV series Kung Fu:
The sage has said "Others are contented, I alone am drifting. Not knowing where I am. I am different. I am nourished by the great mother. In an uncertain hour, the wise man acknowledges uncertainty."

Live well, and all.
Arf, arf!

OTHER FOETAL MISTAKES...
Stephen Fry
Lance Armstrong
Britney Spears
John Cleese
Jonathan Ross
Al Gore
Russell Brand
Alan Carr
Demi Moore
Arnold Schwarzenegger
Snoop Doggy Dogg
Paulo Coelho
Mischa Barton
Yoko Ono
Will Self
Will Smith
Will Conquer
Will Power

THE LATEST TWEET...
Click many, many. But where's the button? Feck, it's cold in here. Time for a mug of tea, methinks.

SNORTING IN ALL THE WRONG PLACES

BIRD: I've been thinking, dude.

BUFFALO: Steady, lad. We've already had one hurricane over ear, like.

BIRD: Just for one second, dude, can you try, I mean REALLY try to listen?

BUFFALO: I hear ya, dude. Adjusting da volume as I peak. But I was wondering, about the title, like. Snorting an' all. Gimme an udder line, man, hey ho!

BIRD: Not that kind of snorting, dude. I mean a rough, noisy sound made by breathing forcefully through the nostrils, as a horse or pig does. The sound we make when we're displeased, disrespectful or hostile to that which is other.

BUFFALO: Oh, youse talking reconciliation, innit!

BIRD: Yeah. And understanding. Let it be, Macca said.

BUFFALO: Wizended words from Sir Paul. But three quarters round the roundabout, what specifically are you motioning at, dude?

BIRD: Miss takes, that sort of thing.

BUFFALO: And wot would you like to confess to, my son?

BIRD: Well, there's this mate, see, and we fell out a while back and I miss him, like. And it got me thinking.

BUFFALO: Dude, not everybody wants to be your friend. Just stick to the good'uns, like.

BIRD: Dude, you know you've lost good friends too. You don't want to lose any more, do ya?

BUFFALO: Not inherently. Pray, continue, o birded one.

BIRD: Well, I was thinking we should give those we hold special space to inflect.

BUFFALO: Oh, I geddit. And you've written to this chum?

BIRD: Well, not yet. But I'm thinking about it.

BUFFALO: Yeah, right. I can feel people thinking about me ALL the time. I've got a whole box full of people's thoughts about me.

BIRD: OK, OK, I get your drift. Time to act. OK, all right, yes. You've done it this time, Buffters. You've really stirred me into action. Nothing ventured, nothing ingrained.

BUFFALO: Break a leg, dude.

BIRD: "Dear Smudger, many years have passed, when we were young and life was long. And I was wondering..." Um, er, hm, ah...

BUFFALO: Go, Birdy! Go, Birdy! Arf, arf!