inkgrrl's inkblog

Something’s been troubling me for a while and I feel compelled to blog about it – my bird, a psitticine of the cockatiel variety (aptly named Jackson Pollack both for my painter-husband’s love of that particular fractal spaz artist, and in tribute to the little guy’s ability to decorate any surface in splatters) seems to have developed an unnatural romantic fascination with my right hand. Mind you, I’m right handed, so it’s a bit inconvenient when he insists on pressing his suit right about the same time I’m blogging or replying to email or fragging a zombie.

I’ve tried to persuade him that my left hand is just as comely a potential mate, but he’s having none of that. As a matter of fact, he actually seems to consider my left hand as his primary competition for my right hand’s affections, so if the left hand comes into his field of view while he’s making his moves on the right hand, he attacks viciously and with no quarter given. He’s quite the little warrior of fluffy love.

And before someone calls the ASPCA and accuses me of bird abuse, I’ve been trying to dissuade him of the whole courtship thing altogether for a few years now, with no success – he apparently feels he has no alternatives and it’s spring time, so a bird’s gotta do what a bird’s gotta do. Maybe we shouldn’t paper the bottom of his cage with pages from Vogue…

Some things man – and woman – was not meant to know. Universal had me collect all my Horrorskopes and send them over in a nice tidy bundle so they could pass them along to their German 13thStreet website, where the whole concept apparently originated. I guess they didn’t want to keep paying some German guy to write them, so they figured why not reuse mine for free? Well, I just had to look – and it’s not pretty. Especially when translated back into English from German by some auto-language-bot – I give you an excerpt for Taurus: “Is certainly unpleasant with the hooves on the back of the head to be always stepped. You feel so similar on Wednesday also.” Don’cha love those wacky Germans?

I gleefully shot off one of Mark Morford’s definitions to The Lorax this morning, who paused briefly to consider the carnage, then picked up the ball o’puns and ran with it:

InkGrrl: I think this is my new favorite word ;->

bedizen \bi-’d-zen, -”di-\ verb transitive (1661) – To dress or adorn gaudily

bedizenment – noun

Usage example: Bedizened in nothing but enormous peacock feathers and a latex thong and pink stilettos and way, way too much eye makeup, a very loaded Lynne Cheney suddenly burst into the nuclear strategy meeting and flung open her arms and yelled, “Do me now you warmongering slug-monkeys!”

The Lorax: you’re referring to “slug-monkeys,” right?

InkGrrl: bedizen, bedizen, bedizen… ack. I’m out of sequins.

The Lorax: you just suffered a sequinsing error