My nephew has some wicked dance moves. These aren't even his best. But they're still Jaspertacular. Enjoy.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Your Goose is Cooked 2.0: Sweet Revenge
So, about a year and one half ago, I blogificated a post called Your goose is cooked, which chronicled my run-in ...er... a goose's run-in with my parked car's windshield. It was funny and infuriating all at the same time.
::Connecting to present day::
The company I work for has lots of corporate grass space surrounding its building, and this area is strictly reserved for the landing, honking, pooping, and mating of Canadian geese. American and/or Mexican geese apparently have no right to the lush real estate. You have NO IDEA how many times, while walking from the parking lot, I've contemplated rushing the bunch of them, seeking revenge for my desecrated 1982 BMW.
Thus far, I've restrained myself from any such termination-inducing actions. But Karma has not forgotten me! One of these geese has apparently lost it's ability or desire to fly and has taken up residence in our back parking lot. Ha! It sucks to suck, goose! Welcome to the corporate world, where your friends take off just as soon as they land and leave you wading through all the crap they left behind.
We've named him/her "Goosen Von Christmas" for no particular reason, other than that was the first conglomeration of bad names we came up with.
(P.S. I don't really feel that way about the corporate world. I just thought it sounded clever)
Even though I constantly mock this goose, I have not yet worked up the courage to approach the fowl and take a really close-up photo. I prefer to remain outside of striking distance. This is the best I could manage:
Could it be the very same bird that drunk-goosed itself into my windshield? Perhaps.
But, probably not ...
::Connecting to present day::
The company I work for has lots of corporate grass space surrounding its building, and this area is strictly reserved for the landing, honking, pooping, and mating of Canadian geese. American and/or Mexican geese apparently have no right to the lush real estate. You have NO IDEA how many times, while walking from the parking lot, I've contemplated rushing the bunch of them, seeking revenge for my desecrated 1982 BMW.
Thus far, I've restrained myself from any such termination-inducing actions. But Karma has not forgotten me! One of these geese has apparently lost it's ability or desire to fly and has taken up residence in our back parking lot. Ha! It sucks to suck, goose! Welcome to the corporate world, where your friends take off just as soon as they land and leave you wading through all the crap they left behind.
We've named him/her "Goosen Von Christmas" for no particular reason, other than that was the first conglomeration of bad names we came up with.
(P.S. I don't really feel that way about the corporate world. I just thought it sounded clever)
Even though I constantly mock this goose, I have not yet worked up the courage to approach the fowl and take a really close-up photo. I prefer to remain outside of striking distance. This is the best I could manage:
Could it be the very same bird that drunk-goosed itself into my windshield? Perhaps.
But, probably not ...
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