Boy. 18 months of nothing, and now twice in one day!

t /Den of Earth

billytea, in Bitches, instructing us all in the proper way to attract an emu:

Ok, here's what you do if you ever want to attract emus. First, go someplace with emus. I accept no responsibility for what might happen if you try this in the middle of LA or something. Next, lie down on your back. This is important as you don't want the emus to feel threatened. They're not aggressive in the way cassowaries are, but they are insecure. Yes, like Barbra Streisand before James Brolin. Now, poke your legs in the air and start doing bicycle kicks, and make gulpy grunting noises. (Also like Barbra Streisand before James Brolin.) Emus are curious birds, and it's entirely likely they've never seen anything like this before. So they'll just have to come over and investigate. And there you have your emus!

billytea: Of course, now I have to act all noble and shit. Bugger.

Cass: You have always been all noble and shit.

Ken Buddha, with the setup in Quotables:

Isn't it amazing how you can barely see Cindy's lips move when I post. And now, Cindy will drink a glass of water while I recite the Serenity prayer.

Trudy, with the response:

God grant me a spaceship with a glowing ass...

?: (Except that you can't find a tough, scrawny old stewing hen to save your life, of course.)

Betsy HP: WORD. I am bitter and aggrieved.

Not nearly as aggrieved as I'd be if somebody were whirling me in the air to determine my gender, of course.

amych: Word. I'm sure I'd squawk, but whether it'd be the high squawk or the low one is anyone's guess.

The original hen comment is also amych.

It helps a lot if you have Theodosia's setup:

It is sometimes difficult to identify correctly the sex of birds ready for caponizing. This is especially true of Brahmas, Giants, Orpingtons, and Reds. Four points of difference between the cock- erels and the pullets which can usually be depended upon are the head, back, tail, and voice. The head of a male is usually broader above the eyes and deeper from crown to throat, with a slightly larger comb and wattles which usually show some red. The cockerel’s beak is somewhat stouter and more arched. The back and shoulders, as a rule, are not so well covered with feathers, which, if present, are not so far advanced as in the pullet. (Fig. 2.) The tail of the cockerel is bushy and rounding, consisting of down-like feathers, while the feathers on the pullet’s tail are well formed, giving a more definite point to the shape of the tail. Finally if still in doubt after considering these three characters, one should swing the bird through the air until the voice can be heard. The high-pitched voice is associated with the cockerels, while the low voice is usually that of a pullet.

billytea in Bitches. The context itself is beautiful, but it's somehow even better roaming free of it's preamble:

But I think we can all agree just by looking at them that keebler elves taste like ass.

In Bitches...

Susan W.: It's all about eyes on the page. It reminds me of the coverage of the flu and the vaccine shortage--you know all the stuff they had recently about how this flu isn't a PANDEMIC, not like the 1918 PANDEMIC, and here's why it's not a PANDEMIC, but it's inevitable that someday a PANDEMIC FLU will come again?

amych: And this makes me think of the mid-70s War On Swine Flu. Why, oh why, can't we have a leader with the boldness and clarity of vision of Gerald Ford?

ita:

Our NYE mountain plans were cancelled due to lack of wishing to be 3,500 feet up in the dark and cold with people we hardly know.

connie neil in Bitches, for the visual and the last line:

I have a sweet Hubby. Two days ago, when the latest snow began to fall, he had a neighbor build a snowman for me. See, several years ago--the last time we had real snow--I discovered the joys of dismembering snowmen with a sword. Ever see a hand and a half broadsword decapitate a frozen snowman? Makes a neat crunching noise, and the neighbors cross the street to go past your house.

The past two days I've been too tired when I got home from work to dismember Mr. Snowman. But Hubby was determined that I give Sting a proper workout. So, tonight, in the spirit of "I don't have to work tomorrow!" I pulled Sting off its wallhanger and said, "There's a snowman in the front yard that needs decapitating." Hubby, who has been in bed a lot dealing with the pain of surgery recuperation, blinked and said, "Not before I get my shoes on." "Then best get moving."

Mr. Snowman was a little soft, but Sting is a sweet blade to swing. It's a tad light, but it's balanced beautifully for my hand and it slices very nicely through blocks of snow. Being short, you can turn it in the air quickly and get some nice one-two combinations. Need more snowmen.