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It’s been days, weeks even. Yes, I know. I’m not the blogger I used to be. But what is there even to share? Romance? Don’t patronize me with such questions. Exciting reports from the road ala Vook and Pepe? No, jackhole. For all I know they could be roadkill on the side of a hot lonely interstate. Impressive new tricks Booby Muffin has learned? Maybe, but how would I know? She’s going through her natural adolescent rebellion and only gives me sharp, monosyllabic meows in answer to my queries about her day. She’s also been bringing dead island mice into the nest, and she knows that I’m afraid of them…. teenagers.
And what, ad world domination you ask? Bah. Hiss. Grumble-b-bumps. Check out this MEMO I received from Binkus in the mail today. It had globs and smears of barbecue sauce and mustard on it. That man must be stopped:
I guess I’m gonna have to see what Billy Binkus is made of, since lately I’m not made of much when it comes to winning the Binkus Wings account. Last night I had a dream that I was sitting in my nest eating a chicken and I had forgotten to pluck its feathers. Binkus is slowly killing my soul.
With trepidation I clopped my hooves downthe linoleum hallway that leads to Dr. Lynn’s office. She told me over email this past weekend that she was looking forward to catching up on my blog before we met. Great. Get ready for scrutiny of every last minute detail of every single experience I share with the world. I would block her IP address if I only knew how.
Dr. Lynn: So… Booby Muffin. That’s an interesting name for a cat.
Me: Thanks. It just jumped out at me.
Dr. Lynn: And why do you think ‘Booby’ jumped out at you? Have you considered that maybe you’ve got pent up sexual frustrations?
Me: Actually, it refers to the Blue Footed Boobies of the Galapagos. Jeez Lynn, your reading comprehension must not be what it used to. Didn’t you read Kitten Lures Sex Kitten?
Dr. Lynn: Yes, I read it. But I’m afraid that was just a cover. A donkey’s self-aware attempt to conceal the true origins of his actions. Only a trained can see it. I actually don’t believe that you’ve really been to the Galapagos.
Me: I’m sorry you don’t believe me. I can fly though Lynn. I thought we had covered this.
Dr. Lynn: Let’s move on to something that concerns me greatly. And this is your relationship with Mr. Binkus.
Me: Binkus…
Dr. Lynn: I think the money and prestige that the Binkus Wings account would bring you is not worth the demoralization that your relationship with Binkus inflicts on you. I mean, are you really going to dress up like a chicken? And I didn’t know you went to Texas.
Me: Yes you did, I told you.
Dr. Lynn: No, you didn’t.
Me: Did too.
Dr. Lynn: No, you did not.
Me: Did too.
Dr. Lynn: Okay, let’s move on to Lisa. I think you must subconsciously have known that Lisa wasn’t a candidate for romance Donkey Pegasus, and that’s why you chose her.
Me: That’s redonkulous Lynn.
Dr. Lynn: I don’t think it is. I think it’s time you consider the fact that a relationship with a human might not be a well thought-out idea. For one, your relationship could never be accepted by society. And you could never have children, which is a meaningful life experience that I think you shouldn’t miss. Especially given your affection to your new pet and the obvious issues with your parents. Issues, I will add, that you’re too blocked up to discuss.
Me: You really think that society would shun me? I mean, they accept me at restaurants, don’t they? IKEA thinks my money’s good. My work sure thinks I live up to human expectations. So why can’t I have a romantic relationship with a human? I mean, why not?
Dr. Lynn: I… uh, well. That’s… that’s a difficult thing to…, uh, well. There’s not much of a precedent her. You’re sort of an anomoly Donkey Pegasus.
Me: Maybe I’m a precedent setter. And I am not an anomoly.
Dr. Lynn: Yes I’m afraid you are.
Me: Am not.
Dr. Lynn: Uh, okay. How about Vook and Pepe? Haven’t heard from them in awhile. Is there something wrong?
Me: No Lynn. I’m just trying to live in the present like you told me. And Vook and Pepe could be a million miles away at this point.
Dr. Lynn: No, actually they couldn’t.
Me: Sure they could.
Dr. Lynn: No, that’s impossible.
Me: Not it’s not.
Dr. Lynn: Time’s up. Sorry. To be honest Donkey Pegasus, I think our session today was a setback.
Me: I didn’t.
Dr. Lynn: Well I did.
Me: Did not.
Dr. Lynn: Goodbye Donkey Pegasus.
Hell. It was beautiful this weekend. The sun shimmered upon the wind ruffled bay and the sailboats dotted the oceanscape like little paper hats. It was bliss. So I’m told.
I was in the office all weekend, burning brainpower over the commercial challenge Binkus hurled at me on Friday. It was useless. I sat brain-dead in the darkened office, the air conditioner humming, a pigeon flying desperately towards the window of the building across the street. No pigeon, it’s a mirror! That’s not your friend! That’s you—ohhh. That poor dirty bird slammed beak-first into the highrise and slid down the vertical death slide slow at first, then gaining speed, so that by the time the poor little guy was nearing the sidewalk he was probably pushing 50 MPH. I ran downstairs to help him (as if any person walking by would help a dying pigeon!) but the bird was nowhere in sight. Vanished. Crashed into nothing? Incinerated completely on impact? Caught by an awning? Netted by a giant butterfly collector? (No, the collector isn’t giant. The butterflies he catches are…) Caught by an open-trailered cotton haul? Oh I hope so… I couldn’t get that pigeon off my mind. I skulked back up to my office. It was 2:15pm on a Saturday. I could almost feel Booby Muffin’s anticipation for me to fly home and play. I wanted out but at the same time, with the Binkus account, so badly I want in.
But I couldn’t get the pigeon off my mind. Sure, this bird died by accident (or was it volition?) but so many others don’t get the chance. On Saturday I was especially thoughtful of brother chicken. With that in mind, here’s all I was able to muster in my Binkus Wings commercial brainstorm. Bev Binkus had some “complications” with a “procedure” she had “done” so luck tossed me a few extra days. But I’m not sure, in the end, that they’ll help. Here’s what I’ve got for the 30-second Binkus Wings commercial. Let me know what you think:
Hi kids and parents! I’m Binky the Binkus Wings Chicken. I made up a song! Do you want to sing it?
When you bite into my flesh and bones
And eat my skin with pleasure groans
Then dip my meat into the sauce
Discard my leg with just a toss
Don’t forget I died for you!
So parts of my body you could chew!
When You Eat Binkus Wings…. I hope you don’t have bad dreams.
Great job kids! Now let’s go eat my body!
So… uh… what do you think? I mean it, give me your honest opinion. I might… you know… be a little too close to it.
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