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  1. #421
    Pebbles67's Avatar
    Pebbles67 is online now Senior Member
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    Quote Originally Posted by geostump View Post
    My 3rd oldest sister is a Scorpio and we don't even talk. I also don't even say but maybe two-three times a year to my sister that is a Capricorn. I speak to my sister that is a Sag however.
    Eureka! My husband is a Scorpio...
    Paula Primal since 9/24/2010
    "Our greatest foes, and whom we must chiefly combat, are within." Miguel de Cervantes

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  2. #422
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    Day Three of Gay Panda's 30-Day Challenge

    A: Read. Today the winds were arctic, and they were encouraging young men to go north, and young men obeyed. The winds are the best character in this forsaken book, and I am perversely happy at the prospect of pages 13-16 tomorrow to see what they do next. CHECK.

    B: Exercise. Hah-hah, primal treadmill. I don't have to do that today.

    C: Agents. Successfully avoided for three days in a row!

    D: Floss. I Googled flossing today and spent an hour entertaining myself with what I found. Maybe I'll write a post about it. When flossing has a Facebook page, you know that pretty much everything under the sun does. CHECK.

  3. #423
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    Quote Originally Posted by Gay Panda View Post
    A: Read. Today the winds were arctic, and they were encouraging young men to go north, and young men obeyed. The winds are the best character in this forsaken book, and I am perversely happy at the prospect of pages 13-16 tomorrow to see what they do next. CHECK.
    I am presently living 1.66 degrees south of the arctic circle, and let me tell you, Gay Panda, when the arctic winds tell you something, they mean business. They came down for a visit last winter while I was here and it was an experience I could have lived without.

  4. #424
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    PART ONE: The furred, feathered, and translucent members of the Panda Household are in mass revolt, and today I’m taking one of them down.

    Gay Panda supposes that when one is consigned to an afterlife of haunting a 1,000 square foot home, one gets bored. Proper hauntings are reserved for mansions, where there are hidden staircases behind bookshelves in the library, which can only be accessed by pulling on an arm of a torchere, or tipping the dusty, hardbound copy of The Joy Luck Club (third row down, fifth from left). A poltergeist has infinite room for creativity in a place with a foyer and twin winding staircases, a conservatory and wine cellar, servants’ quarters behind the kitchen, and a spooky attic full of locked chests and dress forms.

    But Benign Poltergeist landed in my modest little home instead. Dewy-eyed ingénues do not turn up on the porch to offer themselves for a night of terror within the haunted walls, because this is a house without grim secrets in its past. Having nothing to fuel a supernatural rage, Benign Poltergeist is only a petty spirit. Childishly, it hid my socks the other day, and was disappointed when I just went to my dresser and got another pair.

    However, the kitty is a ripe victim for the picking. She bolts through the house yowling on nightly waves of indignation at the barrage of yo-mama jokes and small objects that Benign Poltergeist heaves to set her off. In the morning I wearily pick up after my household ghost, spilled pillows and toppled books, and if it continues to taunt throughout the afternoon, I put the kitty outside. She hates this. The kitty and I prefer an indoor life, and since the kitty is terrified of pterodactyls, she takes refuge in the carport on the top of my car to watch the skies.

    However, the kitty is not the one going down. After all, she is only protecting her mother’s reputation, and bellowing in outrage at the callousness with which Benign Poltergeist treats my belongings. She has a rumbling purr and I need her for heavy lifting, and we’re comfortable in each other’s company. I can’t get rid of Benign Poltergeist either, since the online exorcist I found was charging a ridiculous amount, and all of my money goes to meat, San Pellegrino, and MST3K.

    Gay Panda has a knack for choosing weird animals. Some of Benign Poltergeist’s taunts about the kitty’s mother are valid (don’t tell her that I said that). It was a miracle that her mother lived even three years, because she was born with a dunce cap perched between her fuzzy black ears. Her favorite sleeping spot was in a pothole square in the middle of the road. Night after night, I would come home from work and screech to see her curled up in a happy little ball wedged into the pothole. I could not convince her to sleep anywhere else, and the inevitable happened when someone drove over her. Long ago, I also had a dunce cap dog that spent years befuddled at how a glass door magically appeared between the yard and the living room during its daily charge to the house for breakfast. The reverberating BANG woke me up completely. I’ve had a suicidal fish and a homicidal hamster, and a cat that followed the Dean Ornish diet and supped upon whole grain hamburger buns instead of meat.
    Last edited by Gay Panda; 10-04-2011 at 09:40 AM.

  5. #425
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    PART TWO: My chickens have taken their place in Gay Panda’s hallowed halls of odd creatures. Avada Kedavra made a very poor decision two days ago when she decided to take on Lady Friend. This is laughable. No one, human, feline, equine, chicken, or alien, takes on Lady Friend. She is so imposing that she could walk into a mental ward and shout, “KNOCK IT THE HELL OFF!” and lifelong delusions, personality disorders, and compulsive checking would evaporate like morning dew. You would be afraid to do anything but hastily usher your psychiatric acronyms out the door, and then Lady Friend would take you out for steak. She is my favorite force of nature.

    But Avada Kedavra felt up to the challenge. As Lady Friend visited the chickens, throwing out food and walking to the coop to look for eggs, Avada Kedavra charged her. I was watching from the door and let out a cry of warning as the chicken lunged for Lady Friend’s foot and got a beakful of flip-flop. Lady Friend turned around with her eyes on fire, and charged that chicken right back. For the next few minutes, that Death Eater was on the run all over the yard. Subdued since then, she has returned to merely hexing, and pecking at the house so that I am constantly reminded of her hatred for me.

    Although Imperio tries to take on my car, and occasionally I have to yell at her to stop attacking the tires, she is a rather demure bird. Her comb is very tiny, and if she were a Disney character, she would have a complex about it. Her days are spent with cheese rinds going in one end and eggs farting out the other, and we bear each other no ill will. I love the David-and-Goliath approach that she takes to my car, so until I’m paying for a tire that she’s popped, she’s a keeper. Wingardium Leviosa is fussy and anal-retentive with eggs, and often gives me a disgusted side-eye. She molts frequently, looking like a naked, abused animal on an ASPCA commercial with sad hippie music in the background and a tremulous plea for a forever home. Her lost feathers fly all over the yard, and then new ones grow in slowly. She just isn’t worth the energy that it would take to get rid of her, and so we tolerate each other.

    The one going down today is Cruciatus. I never could have imagined that I would feel such loathing of a chicken. A bigger soul than Gay Panda would note that she and I have common ground to build upon; neither of us likes changes to our routine, and a healthy streak of drama queen runs through our veins. But I try to overcome my flaws. Cruciatus revels in hers.

  6. #426
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    PART THREE: I can no longer take the sheer noise that she creates. I let her out of her coop before seven, and she’s already creating a ruckus. There is a brief spate of quiet until eight, and then she begins in earnest. Chickens like to stay all together, and if Imperio has gone to the coop to fart out an egg, they are NOT all together. Cruciatus splits the difference between the coop and the others, and yells her discontent at the top of her lungs. Once I put her into the coop and closed the door so she could see Imperio and be consoled. Then she yelled because she could not see Avada. I let her out, and she yelled because she could no longer see Imperio.

    The laying of eggs takes a while, so the yelling goes on and on all morning. Sometimes I put in earplugs. Every screech is like she’s being strangled. After the eggs have been laid, she still does not calm down. She continues to screech in the afternoon, standing joyfully among her chicken brethren. Nothing is wrong. She just likes to make noise, and does so with a high-decibel enthusiasm. If I were my own neighbor, I would hate me. I don’t feel too badly because all my neighbors have annoying dogs, but just because others behave badly does not mean that Gay Panda can do the same.

    So Cruciatus is moving to a new home tonight, under the ownership of a friend who has a noisy rooster. They can make horrible music together. Moving chickens is a psychological art, which I will be engaged in tonight instead of goofing around on MDA. After the chickens have gone to roost, one slides open the gates of Hogwarts, grabs the chicken and puts her in the cardboard cat carrier, and drives her to the new coop. Then one puts her inside. When those chickens wake up in the morning, they will not freak out so much to see a new friend. Chickens are simple, and if they wake up with Cruciatus, they will think that she’s been there all along, and they just haven’t noticed her until now.

    I will be glad for the peace. I chose her breed because they were supposed to be quieter, and instead I got Cruciatus. It is tempting to slaughter her and have a nice chicken dinner, but I’ve never done that before. While I am sure there is a how-to video on YouTube, I am unsure that killing a creature because of how I watched a total stranger do it on a YouTube video is a wise decision. That sounds like the sort of thing that Twilight Barking is made of, and Gay Panda is not ready to star in Animal Precinct. My body’s downward momentum has taken a breather at 188-189 pounds of panda, so it is going to be a while longer before I am camera-ready.

    So the Panda Household will be down a Death Eater tomorrow, and my friend will be gaining one. Wish us success in our prisoner transfer, and should any of you be interested in paying for an exorcist and welcoming Benign Poltergeist into your own home, I will be happy to oblige.

  7. #427
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    I'd take the Benign Poltergeist! We don't have a kitty yet in our apartment and I'm good at sleep through noises beyond closed doors. My psyche seems to realize that beyond the door = not worth bothering about, so I stay asleep no matter what.

    Good luck with the transfer!
    Journal on depression/anxiety
    Currently trying to figure out WTF to eat (for IBS-C).

  8. #428
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    Quote Originally Posted by namelesswonder View Post
    I'd take the Benign Poltergeist! We don't have a kitty yet in our apartment and I'm good at sleep through noises beyond closed doors. My psyche seems to realize that beyond the door = not worth bothering about, so I stay asleep no matter what.
    SOLD! SOLD to namelesswonder! I will begin researching online discount exorcists, which will take up the time I should be dedicating to my 30-Day Challenge.

  9. #429
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    Why does Gay Panda do this? Oh well, at least I can bring everyone down with me. Google 'banish ghost from house' and you end up on a wikiHow article explicitly explaining how to do so. Who WRITES these things?!? Do people actually read this and take the advice seriously? I also landed on a website claiming to show pictures of a Scotland cemetery which has been invaded by nudist ghosts.

    Why does supernatural phenomena like that keep passing me by? The sole weird moment in my life was in 2000, when I was looking for a place to move. I was happily anticipating the house as I drove to check it out, since the location was in a beautiful area, and there were no neighbors nearby. The description from the Internet was lovely. And then I pulled into the driveway. I have never had such a strong negative reaction for no reason before. I looked at that house and felt like something mean was looking back. I tried to rationalize with myself, but it was an instinctual urge to get the hell out of there. So I did, without ever setting foot inside.

  10. #430
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    Gay Panda how did the transfer go im on the edge of my seat .also killing a chicken for food is not fun it is so much easier to buy it already done pluckig feathers is a horrible job .i have had cickens and they allways live out there lives to the end in comfort noisy or not

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