Turn-ons: Seeds, dragonflies, sexual dimorphism, “Dexter”–anything with John Lithgow really…besides “3rd Rock From the Sun,” Chex Mix, shitting on statues, long and meaningful conversations about the interconnected nature of biological life on earth, parking lot french fries, Monty Python and sizzurp–don’t judge me.
Turn-offs: Lightning, hail, power lines, fireworks, Dick Cheney, inappropriate Hitchcock references, ABC’s “Flash Forward” and the terms “aflockalypse,” “flockocide” and “flockocaust.” And Seagalls.
How I got to be The BEAST Page 3 “Dead red-wing blackbird”: Well, it’s a bit of a mystery, isn’t it? But, no, seriously, the death of multiple thousands of my winged brothers in Arkansas, Kentucky and Louisiana wasn’t due to lightning, stress or whatever bunk you’ve read. We finally pieced together the outcome of the fall elections from tattered bits of newspapers and we collectively decided we didn’t want to live in a country plagued by such outright stupidity. And then we came across a John Stossel article that conflated climate change skepticism with a healthy disbelief in ghosts, and we all just lost our fucking shit and went out together like Jonestown. It seemed like a reasonable thing to do at the time.
Future Plans: Autopsy, decomposition, a relaxing Carnival Cruise.
How I’d Like to be Remembered: As a harbinger of ecological collapse. Or, you know, just a cool dude who lived a rockin’ life. And, yup, I could totally fly. So there’s that, I guess.