Adventures in Residency PART 2

I was getting ready to do this week's owl update today the way I always do; by reading the newspaper from Saturday. Strangely enough, as I was scanning my horoscope (Capricorn, I is,) I noticed something strange about it.

I don't remember there being anything like that on Saturday, but I was asleep most of it.

Anyways, keeping in with this month's theme of roommates, here's a great passive aggressive greeting card for people who live together and are slowly starting to hate each other.

Trust me, guys, if there's one thing people dislike more than doing dishes, it's being reminded by someone (usually a woman, or "female,") to do the dishes. So instead of acting like the horrible, nagging shrew that you can feel yourself slowly becoming, leave this little cutie under your roommate's bedroom door.

PEOPLE LOVE IT WHEN YOU SLIP THINGS UNDER THEIR BEDROOM DOOR AND YOU LIVE IN THE SAME APARTMENT.

What many of you may not know is that the traditional soap-and-water-and-paraffin method of doing the dishes is starting to be seen by many as unnecessarily labor intensive and really waxy. Here's a tip from an old pro that I learned from when I worked at Graceland that you can use to wash the dishes without having to actually do the dishes.

1. Step 1: Coat your dishes in a mixture of one part molasses to two parts blood. (Don't ask me where to get the bood. All I'm going to say is that human blood works best. But again, I'm not telling you to do anything here, people.)

2. Step 2: Leave the blood and sugar caked dishes in a room that (and this is vital) your roommate uses, but only every once in a while.

3. Step 4: In a couple of days, that room will have become infested with various beetles and ants and possums that will have devoured the blood and molasses, as well as whatever gunk was on the dish.

5. Step 3: The dishes will be clean, but the animals will now have an insatiable thirst for human blood. This is your fault for using human blood. If you don't keep them fed, the beetles and ants will pick you to pieces before the sun rises in the morning. You won't feel anything, and you won't wake up until it's too late.

4. Step 3: Enjoy your sparkling clean dishes!

5. Step 3: Move.

But before I wrap things up... I was doing what I usually do on Mondays, (reading the funny pages from the Sunday before last,) when I stumbled upon this and couldn't stop laughing.

COMEDY GOLD.

Adventures in Residency PART 1

Well, it's August 1st. This is officialy the time of year where students start getting depressed that school is starting in a scant few days, unless they're nerds, in which case all they did this summer was write fan fiction and have nightmares about human interaction and are therefore talking about how they can't wait for school to start, which makes normal people become frustrated. And whether you are going off to college for the first time, moving off campus for the first time, or have become a pariah in the neighborhood you presently rent a house in because of that time you jogged pantsless past an open window as the elementary school down the street was letting out just because you started pooping and suddenly decided you wanted something to read, many of us are changing our living situations. So I've decided to make August a theme month. All of the material presented on this blog during August will be appropriate ways for people who live together to communicate with each other. I can't help but feel that this week's card is a great example.

This is a card that I feel would be appropriate for anyone to present to their new roommate, but I feel it's especially apt when a dude gives it to the other dude he's about to start sharing a dorm with. By doing this, the recipient will assume that this new guy is homosexual, or "gay," thereby ensuring that neither one of them will speak to or make eye contact with the other for the rest of the semester. If you've ever, EVER, shared a dorm with someone (even if you kinda liked him or her) you'll find that this is useful in speeding up the process of dorm level interaction (namely; outreach, awkwardness, masturbatory interruption, disdain, silence.) This card will expedite nature itself, streamlining the chain to simply awkwardness, silence, and masturbatory interruption if the floors don't creak. So check it out.

See ya next time, kids!

July Finale

In these summer months, it is not always easy for one to wax poetic on the nature of romance. For those of you lucky enough to be with the special person who accompanies you through the vast, indistinct hellscape that is summer (and the vast, indistinct hellscapes that are the other three seasons,) consider this card as a special tribute.

Naturally, the educated greeter will recognize the message of this card as being borrowed from the lyrics of one of my favorite Olivia Newton John songs. (Those of you not familiar with Olivia Newton John, or "OLIVOJO" as I call her, would be wise to review this brief biography. Born into squalor in the Australian Outback, Olivojo would go on to graduate from Rydell High in 1959 at the age of 30. She eloped with her life-mate, the beefy 24 year old high school senior John Travolta, and proceeded to fly into space with him in a rocket car. Tragically, the vessel was a convertible. Neither was ever seen again. All that remains of the legend of Olivojo are various number one hits, which I will now begin singing in my head. Also, I have never dressed up as her.)

More to the point, while not everyone desires romance, I hope that all of you who seek it find some "summer lovin'" of your own. Spring may be the stereotypical season of passion, but I have to believe summer is better. It's the special time of year where someone can find someone to watch reruns with and can get naked in front of without having to care. (Also, fireworks and alternating designated driver duties.) So happy summer, everybody. Try not to die.

(OWLivia Newton John wants to get physicOWL with you!)

Also, happy birthday Merv Griffin! Here's a Jeopardy answer for you...

"The animal who's name is derived from the Dutch translation for 'Earth Pig.'"

The question?

"What god would allow a human as repulsive and vile as Merv Damned Griffin to live in sin and filth for so long before righteously plucking him from the planet and dropping him down into the festering pits of everlasting Hell where, in an example of the only injustice found in the divine castings of eternal damnation, he decays slowly in a pit of bile and blood that is twice as massive as the gardens of heaven themselves, and yet is only a fraction of the size of the mountainous turd he excreted on the cultural landscape of the world and visible universe by simply existing for years far too long and far too 'Merv-y'"

A History in Owl"OWL"ogy

Well, here's this week's owl related greeting card.

This card is perfect for two occasions.

1. You want to tell your sweetheart how excited he/she makes you.

2. You want to give your sweetheart a greeting card that seems cute at first but becomes eerily relevant after he/she is electrocuted to death.

Oddly enough, this reminds me of one of the darker moments in the history of America. Before the advent of the lethal injection and the pneumo-noose, state and federal executions were enacted through means of what was known as the "Owl-lectric Chair." Here are some original plans for a later model.

In these executions, the prisoner would be shackled to the metal frame of the chair itself. The chair operators would then slowly lower the owl onto the head of the condemned. The operators would leave and seal the chamber, and retreat to the witness gallery. The owl would then begin to ask the prisoner if he had ever seen Jeff Dunhman doing his Achmed the Dead Terrorist bit. At this point the owl would begin detailing the comedy routine, including his fractured impression of the puppet saying "I KeeeEEl you!" In theory, this is a fate worse than death, which is to say, being strapped to a chair while somebody describes a stand up comedy routine to you (Jeff Dunham, no less.) This form of execution was eventually found to be unconstitutional (cruel and unusual punishment,) ineffective (failed to actually kill the prisoner,) and a violation of the intellectual properties of Jeff Dunham. Another design was tested, wherein the owl was bombarded with an amount of electricity that was three times larger than a lethal charge, but it was decided that owls don't conduct electricity very well. Eventually, many states decided simply to go with the form of execution that many are familiar with; the traditional shoving of an owl into the mouth of the condemned until they both die. (In fact, Massachustes and Vermont are the only states that still don't employ this method of capital punishment.)

Also, Happy Birthday Merv Griffin! I certainly hope no one's keepin' you from buying a vowel in HELL.

Solve this puzzle, turd-diddler...

MERV GR_FF_N HAS SH_T FOR BRA_NS

Owl Related Video Greeting Card!

Ladies and gentlemen, here is the first ever Owl Related Video Greeting Card.

Welcome to the future.



I animated this using my now bleeding fingers and Gimp. I feel sick.

Happy "Independence" Day!

Oddly enough, a holiday is actually taking place on a Monday this year, making this week's owl related greeting card eerily appropriate.

Here we see a red blooded American owl in all the trappings of your average American citizen. He is rocking the traditional sombrero, moustache, and random maracas that have in recent years become inseparable facets of the American heartland. (Not pictured: Laziness, xenophobia, oft-recurring heart murmurs, gun, and horribly unpleasant yet confoundingly condescending wife.) Just think, a scant 240 years ago a bunch of people got together to write a very passive aggressive note that contained no legal legitimacy or obligation and sent it to some guy, somehow guaranteeing independence for the larger part of the Atlantic coast. It must have worked, though, or else I wouldn't be drunk right now. So God bless those guys who's names escape me! And God bless the other nations of the world and North American indigenous peoples for being generous enough to either surrender or die quietly so that a bunch of people they'd never met could hold dominion over places as vibrant and beautiful as Tulsa and Boise. After all, what we must remember for today only is that freedom isn't free, but odds are you weren't the one paying for it. Now who wants a margarita? (Check your inbox. You can email those now.)

Owl Related Government Contracts: Der Vierte

Here is my fourth and final installment in the Owl Related Government Contract series.

This could almost be considered a greeting card of sorts. Naturally, capital punishment in the states requires a certain number of witnesses to be present in order to be legal. But how do medical professionals, lawyers, clergymen, or loved ones get the memo that they get to be one of the few to witness a rare instance of legalized murder? With this little fuzzy guy, of course! No one who has ever witnessed a state execution will say (out loud) that they felt anything but grim reverence in their legal obligation. But maybe if a state or two would pick up my design, the mood might lighten a little bit. (Look! He's wearing a tiny party hat!)

Might some people see this as a disturbing omen of the invisible trend of increased spectatorship in the American penal system? I think not. It's simply a way of summoning professionals in a way that, gosh-darnit, makes people smile on a rainy day. (Look! HE'S WEARING A TINY PARTY HAT.) If you're looking for a real indication of America's latent yet gradually re-emerging fixation on the burlesque aspects of the justice system, watch MSNBC on the weekends and TruTV at any other moment.

Owl Related Government Contracts: Das Drittel

Well, here's the next design I want to pitch to the government. It's more of a public service announcement than a greeting card, but I think you'll see.

In all the time I've spent on the DC Metro (I'd estimate at LEAST 2 years and 3 months when put all together,) I've never encountered poop. I have, however, encountered smells. Smells than no one can explain, without, of course, suggesting that there are people who poop in their pants on the Metro. Which is fine, I guess, but those cars get really crowded really quick. They get hot and damp, and during those busy times it's impossible to not dry hump the seven people surrounding you every time the train moves.

And let me be clear, there is a point that I cannot over-emphasize enough...

I love to dry hump strangers.

But strangers with poop in their pants? In our nation's capital? Unacceptabowl. Hopefully the powers that be in the great masonic District of Columbia will notice this AWESOME POSTER and start putting them at every Metro stop. (I've already released several Great Grey Owls into the Kennedy Center in an attempt to create what I call "buzz." Sadly, the few that have survived this long have begun to terrorize the cast of Wicked in misguided and sometimes tragically successful undertakings to wound and feed upon the smaller actors and children.)

See ya next Monday!

GUEST BLOGGING UPDATE!

Guess what? My friend Aarthi at Adventures of a Business Major has made a grave mistake and has assigned me to write for her blog tomorrow. Don't miss me teaching you and your step-children how a pro turns macroeconomics into a slam dunk!

No, it won't have anything to do with owls.

Owl Related Government Contracts: Das Zweitel

Here comes the second part of this theme month. Needless to say, it is another document I plan on pitching to the government.

Here is a great little note that the police department could send in place of whatever it is they do now. Think about it, would you rather have some schlubby meter maid come up to your door to give you the worst news of your life, or have this adorable little cuddle bug (Constab"owl" Featherfanny) give you the worst news of your life AS WELL AS UPROARIOUS LAUGHTER?

THERE IS NO COMPARISON.

If you are in charge of any city's police or constabulatory forces and are interested in contracting my FANTASTIC DESIGN, give me a call at 1-800-CALLATT because I want to know if that number still does anything.

(And for those of you wondering about the Connowlsseur, neither she nor her unaffiliated and unnamed lackey, Michael, have contacted me... yet. Perhaps they know better than to bother me during theme month.)