"Phone calls, we take your phone calls, we take your phone calls everyday!!!"
Ah, the swollen sound of a strangers voice on the other end of your phone. Picking away at your ear, they so desperately want to keep your attention. In this world of blogs and bordellos do we really have the time to sit and listen to their scripts? You know what I'm talking about, don't you?
Most people answering these types of phone calls may deal with it as if their subscription to anger management has run out. I usually place little importance on these types of matters and even less thought, that was, until a fluke occurence in which I came upon an interesting way to dispose of these interruptions.
With some careful planning I was fortunate enough to capture some of my victims as evidence of my recent findings. Please feel free to take my methods of deafeating the telemarketer and use it as your own defense against their armies.
Without further ado, here's Chapter 2 : Hang Ups.
PS - You need to have your computer speakers turned on for this chapter to take it's full effect. Special thanks to Heather for helping me get the music. The 'Hey Nows' are in there to protect my ass from all you internet freaks.
PPS - If you are a telemarketer, please forgive me (and I might forgive you).
Yeast.
I'm writing this post not only because of the fact that it's about a strange occurence (Weird NJ Worthy? No.) but because I'm hoping someone out there can shine some light as to why this is happening (besides the obvious).
A little over a week and a half ago a red cardinal started crashing into the window in my kitchen. My sister Kate first noticed it (or possibly Thom or the Smitten did, but they don't talk, yet). The bird is relentless. It flies up to the bush in front of the window, perches, aims and fires itself into the window. Now possibly it sees it's own reflection and it's become addicted to itself. I see this no differently then how a woman will take hours in the bathroom to get ready to go out.
I used to find it really amusing that humans look in the mirror at least once a day for their whole lives while an animal will go it's whole life without even knowing what a mirror is, yet it looks like this bird has proven me wrong. He's infatuated with what's in the mirror. So I wonder, why doesn't he act this way to the other birds around him? Why does he act this way only to his reflection? What does his reflection have that the other birds don't?
The cardinal has become an everyday occurence around here, just another routine. As simply as the sun comes and goes, so does the red cardinal. It chooses to strike only during daylight hours, though. What it does beyond that time I am unsure, and I could care less. As I write this, it continues to come crashing into the window leaving marks of it's beak parading all over the glass. The bird also sports a mohawk milliseconds before it chooses to strike the target.
Thom seems to be more preoccupied with the bird then the Smitten, which leaves me to believe that Thom has had some run-ins with birds in his former life (aka the time in Atlantic City or wherever the hell he was before Kapluna scooped him up). He chooses to stalk the red one from the inset next to the kitchen where he has a nice panoramic view of the bird landing and attacking. I'm half tempted to let Thom loose on the bird to see what he could come up with...possibly persuade the lil' bugger to move on from his life here in Richland.
Please post your explanations of this occurence and possibly how to end it (without a {potatoe} gun).
Yeast.
Alright I'm back. Look for my next post within 48 hours. It will include a red bird, some cats and plenty of video to go along with it.
And don't say I didn't warn ya.
Just checking to see how this looks with a post. Of course we know you'll delete this post and probably change the whole look of the blog Chuckles, but I really don't care.
-Kate