The Foulest of Fowl


This a reminder that it is now peacock mating season.

The males are on the prowl and can be very aggressive. A full grown man, weakened by his charity MS150 bicycle ride from Houston to Austin, was recently violated by one of our feathered friends while his beer buddies looked on in horror.

Unfortunately, his attempts to discourage the mating proved unsuccessful. 

Here are some tips:

Do NOT yell, scream or try to make yourself look larger. The bird will view you as a potential rival and go “prison bull” on you. 

Do NOT fight the male peacock. A 50 pound peacock with mating intentions is stronger than a 200lb man. They have razor sharp heel spurs and will “jack you up” beyond belief.

Do NOT curl into the fetal attention and play dead. The peacock will view this as acceptance of his aggressive mating techniques. You will be ravaged in your own front yard.

Do NOT run away. The bird is faster and they can fly. They will think you are playing “hard to get” and this encourages them.

What defenses do work?


Pretend to be a tree

Carry a fire extinguisher

Try to be unattractive

Keep a well trained, yet vicious, dog with you at all times

Good luck and be safe!

An Office Chaplain and a Pope of Profits

So I volunteered yesterday to my boss to become the company’s 1st ever office chaplain. Didn’t really work out as planned.


Did a whole PowerPoint on the spiritual needs of my co-workers and how many of them could use some work.


I’m no saint, but at least I’m just a problem drinker and only sort of sleep around (heavy petting). The rest are sinners around here.


Like Sandy? We all know she’s hooked on Viocodin. Any time I need to space out for awhile she’s handing me pills.


And Stu is totally McDrinky-drink-drink. He once split a sixer with me on the drive into work. Dirty lush.


If I was office chaplain I could totally pray the gay away for that short haired lady in accounting.


Told the boss I need a confessional booth for the hot ladies to tell me stuff, anyone else can just tell me in the break room or at my cubicle.


I intended to convert a fire sprinkler for impromptu baptismals for the non-Christos peeps (lots of state school liberal arts majors work here).


He said I’m “out of line.” Said peeps’ walk with the Lord is none of the company’s business. Whatever.


He’d change his tune on bringing the Jesus if he knew about all the stolen pens. Don’t get me started on personal Xerox use.


Long story short: the office looks like it’ll remain Satan’s play pen. I bet God’s wrath knocks the stock down.