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…(previously known as KB’s coworker at The Hollywood Reporter) moved to New York City last month to work at Billboard Magazine.
Before she moved east, a few of her coworkers put together a special issue for Emily… who also happens to be the world’s biggest Nicolas Cage fan.
KB asked if I wanted to write anything for Emily’s going-away issue. I said absolutely… but only if I could write it as Nic Cage.
Enjoy! (Click on the image below for a larger image.)
Emily loved it, but not as much as what I arranged to get her last week.
I’m the fulfiller of Nicolas Cage dreams,
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…to Wirtshaus last week to help celebrate my birthday (and watch me drink two liters of free beer out of a gigantic glass boot in the process)!
Beth and I posed for a nice sibling photo at the bar…
…followed by a more accurate sibling photo.
The glass boot ended in an empty success!
But the two liters of free beer pales in comparison to this group of human beings whom I love with all of my 38-year-old heart.
On to 39,
…and I find out by learning that they’ve trained them to catch tuna?!?
Holy craps!
Not sure if that would be adorable or terrifying to witness,
PS: If anyone wants to illustrate what that might look like, I’ll definitely post it.
…for this Halloween-themed birthday card and these sheets of stickers!
I’ll thank him in person in just ten days,
…which resulted in an impromptu trip to our vet this morning.
$400 later (fucking seriously), we got these:
The X-rays were looking for intestinal obstructions. They didn’t find any. So rather than let our $400 go to waste, I figured I’d share them here with all of you.
Yippee.
This is the most expensive post ever,
…an injured American crow I found lying in the gutter near our apartment on Wednesday the 24th. Oddly enough, I found him just a few hundred feet from where I found Charles Cecil Carpenter last summer.
I couldn’t tell what was wrong with him, so I picked him up, put him in a box, and tried to figure out what to do next. As I walked back to our apartment, tons of crows started cawing at me from the trees above. They followed me, flying from tree to tree all the way back to our front gate. It was like a scene out of The Birds… minus all of the eyeball pecking. Thankfully.
I decided to take Edgar to the California Wildlife Center in Calabasas. After an hour-long drive there, a $20 donation, and a two-hour drive back, Edgar was finally in good hands. At the very least, he wasn’t lying beak-down in the gutter.
Yesterday, I called in to check on him. The CWC wasn’t sure what was wrong with Edgar; still, they rattled off a long list of possibilities. He may have been malnourished. He could have been suffering some sort of nerve damage, or been struggling with a neurological disorder. He might have had the West Nile Virus, or just been an elderly crow who was going through the final stages of life.
To be honest, it didn’t matter what was wrong with Edgar because he died the next day, Thursday the 25th. My birthday.
Sorry I couldn’t be more help, Edgar. At the very least, I hope I made your final 24 hours on this planet a little bit better than being beak-down in the gutter.
Learn more about the California Wildlife Center (and donate if you can) here.
At least I got an interesting story out of it,
I mean, seriously, when KB and I do the same exact workout she finishes with a mild glisten on her forehead. Meanwhile, I emerge looking like a yak wearing a snowsuit that just spent nine hours doing Bikram Yoga in a sauna.
I’m hideous,
