While I was on vacation last week, one of the places we visited was the zoo. I love going to the zoo, and this time was no exception. Except for the ungodly heat and humidity, which of course required me to bitch the whole time. (We walked for hours. There was some chafing. Enough said.) Well this time we met a particularly interesting animal, who I created an entire story for in my head, that I thought I should share. I call him "The Flashing Owl".
See what I mean? He totally looks like a dude pulling open his trench coat and shakin his junk.
I named him Stan, and the other owl in the corner looked like an embarassed wife, whom I've named Mabel. Stan is proud of his body, and he likes to show it off. Mabel doesn't like it so much, but hey - they live in a zoo. It can't be that exciting, so if that's what Stan needs to get his rocks off, then so be it. Couples counseling has taught Mabel to choose her battles, and accept her husband for his faults.
For all of you out there that don't speak owl or are having trouble with the body language, I'm here to help. This is what was actually happening:
- ♫ Songbird ♫
- I'm 25 and clueless, trying to find my way through a world that is becoming more and more complicated. I'm a single mommy, learning the ropes of parenthood and adulthood and trying not to mess my child up too bad in the process. I moved to Kansas almost 5 years ago from Ohio, where I currently live with my beautiful 5 year old daughter, and our dachshund Oscar. I'm a shy person on the outside, but on the inside I'm a total weirdo. I always speak before I think, (yeah, read that one again) I dance like an epileptic, and I laugh at myself constantly. I love fart jokes and dirty language...who doesn't? And if you're one of those people that don't...well then, fuck you. *fart*