I like ducks - 02.19.03 - 11:33 pm
Look!

I've been trying not to read certain news stories because I know I will stay up too late thinking about it, but it's hard, you know? I see something like "Ridge unveils anti-terrorism tips" and I read it. Why, I don't know. Maybe because that growing sense of doom only occupies twenty-three hours of my day and I might as well make it a whole twenty-four? Christ.

I've thought long and hard about this and I have come to the conclusion that I DON'T WANT TO KNOW. Seriously. If I'm going to die, I want to die oblivious aka happy. I don't want to be fretting over odd looking hazes and color-coded warnings. My final days are going to be spent gossiping about Jimmy Fallon and making cookies.

Dubya says that we shouldn't be worried, regardless. Yeah, if I had an underground fortified compound with Cinemax, I'd be saying that, too. So shut the fuck up, warpig. I'm also amused by the fact that invading Iraq will increase our chances of a terrorist attack. Oh, I'm sorry. Did I say amused? I meant "really fucking pissed off that our leader with his goddamn Bat Cave is INTENTIONALLY doing something that puts us in danger." I really should enunciate more.

And is there really a need for PSAs on how to prepare? Can we save ourselves? With duct tape? I fucking doubt it. Rollins said something like "Yeah, plastic wrap and duct tape will really save us during a biological attack. Just like ducking under your desk at school will save your ass from an atom bomb." Yep. Hank has a point, there.

I don't know why I am writing about this for the second night in a row. I don't even know what the fuck I am talking about anymore.

Ducks. Let's talk about ducks.

Ducks keep finding us and it's kind of freaky. OK, there are four ducklings left. Fat Boy managed to scare off the other two males and Shut Up has joined his concubine. She still kicks his ass, though, just like she did with her old boyfriend. Shut Up rocks.

Anyway, that's four ducks. Then there is the boy Muschovy. He's been there for awhile. His lady friend came back after a several month long absence, so that's two more.

And then there are the two mottled female ducks. I have no fucking clue where they came from, but when we go out to feed the ducklings, there they are. I like them. They're quiet.

That's eight ducks. EIGHT DUCKS. Plus, Howie. Nine.

Nine ducks.

Damn.

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