n o w p l a y i n g - s c r i p t b i n - f a n c l u b - s t u d i o

make love to the camera



January 09, 2002 - 8:52 am

Dormroom Diddlers

So, I got a couple of somewhat interesting Google searches over the past few days. "Getting laid in college" and "breakfast bangers." Those sound like a movie title and secondary title if ever I heard them.

GETTING LAID IN COLLEGE:

BREAKFAST BANGERS!

Which is, of course, followed by the sequels GLIC2: Library Lovers!, GLIC3: Co-ed Co-minglers!, and (my personal favorite) GLIC4: Dormroom Diddlers!

Hey. Good morning. I get to go to the Art Institute for free today for math class, and that ain't bad.

Yesterday, my hair was fuzzy and crazy. Emphasis on fuzzy. A haircut is necessary.

I saw the last half hour of this documentary on PBS last night. It was about chickens. I wasn't sure about it at first, but then it drew me in. I'll tell you why.

Section One: Woman has chicken as pet. Makes chicken wear diapers. Lets chicken watch TV.

My reaction: OK, sure. There are certainly crazier people than this woman. People own snakes and pigs and treat them that way. A chicken pet. Why not?

Section Two: Woman gives chicken mouth-to-beak resuscitation. Claims that chicken goes back to the coop to relate the story to other chickens. Hires "animal communicator" and asks chicken whether or not it "went down a tunnel toward a light." Chicken replies "Yes."

My reaction: Insanity. Also, that question is leading the chicken.

Section Three: Mike the headless chicken. Chicken has his head cut off, and continues to live. For months. True story. They fed it by dropping grain down it's esophagus and made it drink with an eye dropper.

My reaction: Fascination. I must know more about this chicken (Apparently, I can learn as much as I like).

Section Four: My attention started to waver here, but when Letterman went to commercial and I came back to the bird documentary, I was rewarded. An old man read a story named 'Call Me Chicken.' It was about a mother hen who put her life on the line to save her baby chicks when a hawk attacked.

My reaction: Very dramatic. Better than 'Chicken Run.'

My favorite bird fact has to do with something called the 'Parliament of Rooks.' Rooks are a type of bird, and in their little society they have a strange phenomenon. A group of rooks (called a 'parliament,' much in the same way that a group of geese is called a 'gaggle' or a group of crows a 'murder') gathers together in a field. There will be hundreds of them, and they will all stand and wait, leaving a clearing in the center of their group. Eventually, a rook will fly in, and take the position in the clearing. At this point, the lone rook will start to sing a song. Naturally, no one knows what the rook is saying or communicating. Here's the weirdest part: At the end of the song, the rooks outside the circle will do one of two things. They will either fly away, and leave the singing rook alone, or, they will pounce on it and kill it. Again, nobody is quite sure what the deal is here.

Last thing: Sascha feels that she has been misrepresented and her good name besmirched as a result of yesterday's entry. She wants the record set straight that her fondness for 'bigger and better titties' comes not from the 'tt' in better, as was previously stated, but from the fact that one normally expects to hear the word 'thing' at the end of that phrase.

FadeIn regrets the error.

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