I love my poultry - 10.22.02 - 12:47 am
Look!

It seems I spoke too soon.

And, no, this will not be another entry about teeth. Although, I did realize today that my broken tooth resembles a horseshoe. But I cannot write an entire entry about that revelation. OK, so I can, but that wouldn't be very interesting.

So, yeah. I saw LBC today. Of fucking course, when he walked by, I was dealing with a very nice and very puzzled woman and could not jump the counter to, like, you know. Do stuff. Yeah, I have no idea what I would of done had I not been busy. I get all flustered and tongue-tied when I see him and seeing as how I am naturally flustered and tongue-tied, this makes things even worse.

You wanna know what he did? Sure you do. He smiled, waved, and mouthed "hi".

Wheee. I am a pre-teen girl crushing on the captain of the Pee-Wee Football team who doesn't even know my name, but I still giggle at slumber parties with all my friends over that one look he gave me in the hall which totally means he wants me to make his babies.

Oh, god. The ducklings are awake and yelling. They know I'm harboring an idiotic crush on a boy I don't even know and are angry. Seriously. The faster I type, the louder they quack. And now they are tapping on the glass door.

That's how I woke up this morning, by the way. Except replace "tapping" with "pounding" and "glass" with "bedroom". I have no idea how they make that much noise, but they do.

Which reminds me, Howie scared the shit out of me last night. His nighttime pen sits right next to the glass door leading to the porch. It's covered by a blanket so Howie sleeps through any light in the living room. There is a little window cut in the side.

The ducklings had marched into the living room and I was herding them back on the porch. I was standing next to Howie's pen, telling the ducklings that I was sending them to the circus, when I feel something pulling at my pantleg. I go "Eek!" and look down in fear. There's Howie with his neck sticking out the window, bill firmly clamped on my pants. So I reached down and freed myself while Howie happily started giving my hand duck kisses. I patted his poofy thing and all was well.

You know, no matter what happens with boys and evil patrons, at least I know the duck loves me unconditionally.

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