"Michael, come here to me! This is Conrad!"

I know one thing is certain:

This morning (and every other morning, as far as that goes), if the little creep doesn't stop yelling at me, "Michael, come here to me!  This is Conrad!" because he wants to eat scrambled eggs and *only* scrambled eggs for breakfast, I'm going to pluck every one of his little feathers out with tiny tweezers, and stick his bald birdie ass outside and head-first in a snow drift!

(Just a couple days ago, Mark commented, "Isn't that the reason that his birth mother sold him to you, in the first place?"  Actually, there were 2 reasons that she sold Conrad to me:

Reason #1 being that she had a human baby a year and a half prior to the day I bought Conrad.  He demanded to be fed scrambled eggs every morning BEFORE she ever even *thought* of giving her human son his first bottle of the day.  Conrad knew HE was her first son, and he demanded to be fed first.  He would pitch such a physical and verbal bitch-fit if she took the time to feed her human son first, that she came to realize that Conrad demanded more of her time than she could devote to him.

Reason #2) being that his human mother was getting a divorce.

I got him as the result of Conrad being a spoiled baby AND as the result of a divorce.

Another side story:

When we were selling out house in Cahokia, IL , about 8 years ago, a young beautiful female Realtor showed up at our doorstep.  Before he allowed her to take a step into our home, Mark put his hand up, straight in front of him, as if to momentarily stop her, and he warned her, "I apologize to you RIGHT NOW for anything that *Michael's* parrot, Conrad, might say to you!"

Conrad's cage sat in the great room of that house, the first room that guest step into when they walk through the door. The Realtor looked around that room, and then she walked into the kitchen, just out of Conrad's sight.

With an extremely disgusted, sour tone in his voice, Conrad asks of her, "Where you goin' now, you fuckin' whore!"

I thought I'd die, right then and there.

The Realtor just laughed, and walked on through the house.

Where did Conrad get such colorful language, you ask?  You must know that in general, African Greys hate 'mindless mimicry'.  It bores them to extents that are beyond the average person's knowledge and general observations.  When Greys speak to PEOPLE, they know exactly what they are saying, and why they are saying it.  Greys know that people use human language to communicate with each other, and thusly, they must follow suit.

Remember - I got Conrad from a divorcing family.  The woman that  hand-raised him, feeding him with a syringe before his eyes were even open, was 'stepping out' (read: cheating) on her husband.  And her husband was aware of her extracurricular activity.  And so did Conrad.  Every time his 'mother' left the house, her husband would say to her, "Where you going now, you fucking whore?"  Thusly, Conrad learns:  When a woman leaves the house, or leaves the room, this is what we say!   

African Greys have the entire mental capacity of a 4 yr. old child, ranging from the same IQ, the same emotions, reasoning, and every other cognitive function - with one exception:  Greys are well known to be much bigger worriers than any care-free 4 yr. old child that I have ever seen. 
Combine with having such a huge worrying complex AND being natural klutzes, there is a lot of 'feather shakin' going on!"

Just last night, as he was falling asleep for the evening, he lost his balance and fell off his perch (not at all an uncommon occurrence!)  As soon as he was brave enough to get back on his feet - still on the bottom of the cage - he lowers his head as close to the bottom of the cage as he can get it, and starts shaking like a leaf.  For much the same reason as it is not a good idea to take softly to a dog that is scared of storms, there is a very fine line between making sure Conrad is truly OK, and not injured, and NOT rewarding him for being psychotic.   In the case of the dog-storm thing, the dog thinks, "Oh!  If I act like a damned fool during these loud events, then daddy / mommy will talk sweetly to me and reward me for this behavior, so I really, REALLY need to act like a damned fool during EVERY storm!"  all-in-all, not a good idea!

So.... Conrad continues to verbally complain because I won't give him scrambled eggs all day.  
I give him a snack that I know he loves:  cheese puffs (corn curls??)  In short order, just yesterday, he quickly ate every single puff in the handful that I gave him.  Today, however, is another story, altogether.  Two seconds after I turn my back, he takes the cheese puffs, one by one, and throws them angrily through the bars of his cage,  to our Shar Pei / Black Lab, Denver, who knows this routine well, and Denver knows exactly where to stand in direct relation to Conrad's cage, so he can catch each cheese puff as Conrad hurls it purposefully in his direction.   Or ... to pour more salt on the wound, Conrad will pick up the 'suddenly offending food' in his bill, carefully climb to the bottom of his cage, and hand Denver his little treat from his bill, through the bars of his cage, and directly to this 100 lb. dog's waiting huge mouth!

If Conrad keeps up his antics today, I think when Mark comes home from work this evening, he will see Conrad's frozen feet mysteriously sticking up out of a snow drift, and when Mark tugs on his little birdie feets, instead of sticking in his thumb, and pulling out a plumb, he will pull out a birdie-cicle!

- Michael

Take one down, Pass it around, 89,000 times!

You got that right.  A **LOT** of this common image "doesn't make sense".

If I see that image one more time, I think I am going to shit myself blind.

My intent is not to battle the pot issue. My purpose IS to provide accurate and enlightening information, and in the form of these facts:

Fact #1: I'm a nurse, and I was the valedictorian of my college class with a 103% (no, not a typo). In fact, since the computers wouldn't take a score greater than 100%, I made the college print out my transcripts, I then had the College president **hand write** in the "103%", and he signed the paper, himself. Legally, I have to stick with a 4.0 GPA our of 4.0.

One with the business at hand:

Anna Nichole Smith:
It was reported that 8 of the 11 drugs found in Smith's system were prescribed to Howard Stern - not Anna (Indicating an illegal use). When combined with a high dose of choral hydrate (and if you know what I'm talking about, 'nough said!), it killed her out-right.
Summary: Illegal use of prescription drugs not prescribed to her.

Michael Jackson:
If you know *anything AT ALL* about Propofol, you will know that it's use outside an operating suite almost always indicates an illegal use. It also indicates *GROSS* negligence on the part of "Dr." Conrad Murray, and a court case against him proved him to be an embarrassment to the entire medical community. Propofol has no indications for use outside the operating room environment, and is NOT available at a common drug store. The Propofol that was found in Michael Jackson's system was both obtained illegally and administered illegally. If you look into the doses of the other 'legal', more common medications that were wound in Michael Jackson's system, you will probably find gross negligence there, as well.

Amy Winehouse:
Her blood alcohol level was more than five times the legal drink-drive limit. According to the coroner, "The unintended consequences of such potentially fatal levels was her sudden death.
C'mon, Amy! REALLY?
A glass or 2 of wine? Go ahead, you deserve it!
I don't think a single glass of wine - or even TWO - ever killed anybody!
Drinking the contents of the whole damned liquor store store? Probably not a good idea. It's a 'bit' too late for YOU, but those surviving around you can use this as a prime opportunity to learn about the consequences of a very bad decision.

Whitney Houston:
I quote:
"On March 22, 2012, the Los Angeles County coroner's office reported the cause of Houston's death was drowning and the "effects of atherosclerotic heart disease and COCAINE use. The office stated the amount of cocaine found in Houston's body indicated that she used the substance shortly before her death. Toxicology results revealed additional drugs in her system: Benadryl, Xanax, marijuana and Flexeril.[251] The manner of death was listed as an "accident".
I really don't think I have a single soul left 'on board' with me, but I firmly believe that Whitney's use was **FAR** beyond 'recreational', and did you, dear reader, catch the "Cocaine" in that last statement?
Oh, OK! (:::WHEW!:::) I thought it was just my imagination! You can't imagine how relieved I am to find out that it was not my imagination - but it was more liberating than that. It was the FACTs

The moral of this saga: NONE of these people died by ingesting NORMAL, and for the most part - LEGAL - levels of *anything*.

There you have it.
I did my homework.
No go froth....er...forth....and do your own!

Love and peace to ya'all.

- Michael

Everybody say CHEE-Z-Z-Z-Z-Y!

To catch you up, dear reader, a comment concerning this photo was made on a very popular social media:

Commentator:  "Green dress. Third from the end in the back. Her face is everything!"

One response to this comment:
"Bright flashes emphasize the difference in color on stage. Plus the lighting on stage was not the brightest, so many of the entertainers painted accordingly show highlight and shadow."

I say, "True, dat, lady boy!"    :)

Because I do tend to look like Satan's Little Sister, just for a brief moment, I will play Devil's advocate and say that it is difficult to tell from the comment whether the poster was pointing out the general look on "3rd from the end in the back"'s face, or whether the comment was based on the MAKE UP on her face.

That difference notwithstanding, I do have to quote RuPaul in saying, "We're born naked. Everything else is drag."

Over 20 yrs ago (!!), I was a size 0 - 2.
I didn't weigh over 100 lbs until I turned 30.

I had - and I still have - high cheek bones, bright blue eyes and SMOOTH skin.  (I still get regular comments like, "OH, I love your theatrical color contacts!"  I kindly thank the observant person, and tell them that I am not wearing color contacts.)

I was skinny, young and cute. Now, I'm fat, old - and still cute! :)

I look exactly like I do in my profile pic when I am going shopping on a Wednesday morning as I do when I go out to a bar on a Saturday night. Today, I do an entirely different form of drag as I did 20 years ago.

Having experience in both drag / stage make-up AND photography, I can vouch for the fact that using a flash in photography, in general and without well-staged ambient lighting is like the "Hoochie Mamma" of photography. Whether or not the subject of the photography is human or a still life, etc, is unimportant.  The results are the same.

I often compare the use of an unprepared, general quick flash as the "Hoochie Mamma" of photography because it creates rude, loud, and garish glares and shadows, and washes out anything that is unfortunate enough to come into contact with it.   A perfect example of my point is "3rd from the end in the back".  In the light for which she intended, her make-up is most likely flawless.

Just once in my life, I would like to see a 'group drag shot' taken in the proper lighting for which it was originally intended, and without the aftermath of a a hideously washed-out and glaring general flash.  Using a flash while photographing a drag queen(s) totally ruins the illusion of the art of female impersonation (and does it's fair share of damage to any other non-drag queen subject!)

- Michael

TEXTING, 1, 2, 3......

This Russian-meteor thing has got some of my old circuits cookin' with gas ...



I crock-o-late that the meteor was traveling at 33,000 miles an hour, or 9.16 MILES per second.

A car traveling at 65 MPH is covering 95.33 FEET per second.

Knowing me well, you knew I was getting at SOMETHING, eh? 

I will admit that I am a customer of US Cellular. For me to call *any* phone number, I have to enter all 10 digits.

Those that like to play Russian Roulette with their lives and text and drive (or even enter a phone number) in a cell phone, this info is for you:
1 number per second x 10 numbers x 95.33 ft per second = 953.3 ft that your eyes were not on the road.



If you don't think that is anything to worry about, the Titanic was only 883 feet long. You travel 70 ft. longer than the length of the entire Titanic while dialing a cell phone (I'm not even getting into TEXTNG!). Less than a second (95.33 ft) is definitely more than opportune time and length to kill your silly, denial-laden ass. 

If you are still determined to take a life because of distracted driving, I hope it's yours, and not mine.

Get off the phone and drive. 

Yes, YOU.

(PSSST!  I'm Gay - not retarded.  Don't give me that "I was stopped at a 4-way stop!" or "I was stopped at a light!" crap.  I don't believe that one, and neither does anybody else.)

- Michael

The Sky is Falling! The Sky is Falling! (The Russian Meteor)

Before this meteor-thing picks up more speed than it already has:
KHQA TV Channel 7 (Hannibal, MO / Quincy, IL) asked the following question of it's FB followers:

"A statement released by known Russian extremist Vladimir Zhirinovsky, calls the situation "the test of a new weapon by the Americans." Hmmm ... Do you have a different conspiracy theory?"

My response:

"Known Russian extremist" being the operative phrase.

Bored extremists, conspiracy theorists *and* alarmists could use their obvious over abundance of energy to do something....anything, really! - to make this world a better place, instead of instilling fear and hate into the hearts and minds of the gullible, the easily impressionable, or the lazy (or any and all combinations of all of the above).

Note: "the lazy" = those too damned lazy to do their own homework, and thusly, they are willing to gleam the smallest tidbit of information that requires the least amount of energy required to fast-forward this information, and in doing so, allows them to reap large amounts of the attention that they crave.

Imagine, if you will, the endless possibilities in which this misappropriated energy could be diverted:

Music, art in any form, volunteering in a shelter for the homeless, teaching a willing student, being a good role model and a mentor for a needy, less fortunate young mind, just to list only a few of the many available examples.


This act of nature - a large meteor of this size and magnitude happens about 5 times a year. This time, it broke a million square feet of glass, causing 1,000 injuries, mostly from flying glass shards.

That natural event caused some cuts and bruises. Send this comment to those attention-depraved, conspiracy theorists, lazy alarmists and extremists , and stand back and watch a few faces melt off.

- Michael

The Burger King / Horse Meat Ordeal

The 'horse meat' thing notwithstanding (and BTW, horse meat is eaten in several countries as a standard part of their cuisine), I haven't eaten at a fast food restaurant in almost 5 years. Why? I live in a city with dozens of authentic, ethnic restaurants, including Vietnamese, German, Irish, Italian, Thai, Ethiopian, Asian Indian, Pakistani, and many more. We also have several large global food stores, with foods from all around the world. With all these inspiring, interesting choices from around the world, I ready accept my Indian friend's policy:

I have an Indian friend (from southern India) who has lived in this country for 13 years. The *ONLY** American restaurant she has ever eaten in, in the 13 years she has lived in the country is St. Louis Bread Company (a coffee / food shop known as "Panera Bread" in other parts of the US.). Why does she eat only Indian food? If you have ever eaten authentic, homemade Indian food, you will know why. After two bites of American food, the poor woman's taste buds probably went into a coma!

For the uninitiated:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horse_meat

Smoked and Salted Horsemeat on bread

- Michael

Graduation Day.. Hey, it's a small, personal triumph!

I kinda-sorta self-graduated!  

Even though my insurance covers 10 more physical therapy sessions, I have reluctantly arrived at the conclusion that my once-a-week appointment was more to spoil myself, rather than to achieve more progress.  

A bit about Erb's Palsy:

My therapist at RPI, Libby, took 'final measurements' of my range-of-motion in my effected right arm (Erb's Palsy), and found that I have made great improvements - a 60 to 70 degree increase in the range in my elbow, alone.

For the first time in my life, BOTH of my shoulders are level!
Since I couldn't afford the usual 3 visits per week, and I have all the same equipment at home, I have been doing the same exercises at home as I was doing when I went to therapy, with one exception to that rule:  I did twice the work at home as my therapist required me to do when I went to see her, so.... The therapy visits that I paid for were actually lighter work days than when I did the same thing at home for free.

If I need her (Libby!), I know where to find her.  She was wonderful to me, but I have chosen to venture out on my own.  Since I was doing twice the work on days that I didn't have therapy scheduled, it shouldn't be too difficult for me to continue therapy at home without having to pay $200 / month.

- Michael