Afishionados,

If Diane Keaton was a duck, she would look like this.  Now, moving on. Australia is awesome, but I’ve just read about the dumbest thing to come out of it since Speedos.

SYDNEY (Reuters Life!) - Walks like a duck, talks like a duck, dresses like a duck — it must be Australia’s duck fashion show.

Behatted ducks in pink, green and yellow outfits waddled down the catwalk in the Pied Piper Duck Show at one of Australia’s most famous annual country festivals.

Brian Harrington, who runs the show, believes his feathered models are just as talented as their human counterparts, and completely under-appreciated.

The 60-year-old has run the show for some 25 years and dresses his ducks according to the latest fashion trends for each event.

“I love that little duck. If she was a human, she’d be on top money,” said Harrington.

I have an Australian agent in the field that has done extensive research on ducks, but giving them their own fashion show? Dammit, people, birds are evil. They’re trying to take over, don’t you see? First it’s the little things, like shitting on your car or stupidly flying into your windows and doors because they supposedly don’t see the glass. Bullshit. All birds are liars. They see it. They’re just testing your house for weaknesses and determining the best time to strike. They mostly come at night. Mostly…

Soon, the madness continues and the next thing you know birds have their own fashion shows. Harmless, right? Just cute ducks in little costumes? WRONG. They’ve already scrutinized the integrity of your windows and plotted to peck your eyes out when you sleep, and this is just evidence that birds are trying to infiltrate society. They want to be destroy the system by being a part of it. Clever, but I’m on to them.

Afishionados,

There is a remake in the works of the 1963 Alfred Hitchcock classic film The Birds. Typically, I am not a fan of remakes (or re-imaginings), especially of classic films that were just fine the first time around. I did like Ocean’s 11 (though I have never seen the original) and I like the new version of The Parent Trap better than the old one. But I don’t think that anyone needs to remake The Birds. I think it will go the way of the Tim Burton flop The Planet of the Apes or the abysmal Tim Allen’s version of The Shaggy Dog. This unfortunate trend may only be tiered to movies involving people named “Tim”, however, as I now see a pattern…

I’m no fan of birds, but the original version of The Birds helps my cause in showing the world just how evil these creatures are. If you aren’t scared of birds, you should be. They’ll peck your fucking eyes out, I promise you. Right after they’re done shitting on your car. Or head.

There’s no information as to what the new Birds movie plot is, but it won’t be as good as Hitchcock’s. And one reason for that is because Tippi Hedren can’t star in it.

Tippi Hedren’s first starring role was in The Birds. She was only 33 years old and she looked smoking HOT. That’s reason enough to watch the movie right there. I suppose she could make a cameo in the new version, but it just wouldn’t be the same. For some reason, remakes love to feature the original cast members in new roles for the remade version.

Naomi Watts is rumored to be in the new Birds. She’s a hot British born and Australian raised actress and I thought she looked stunning in the new King Kong. She was also a MILF in the overrated and terribly-sound-designed horror flick, The Ring. but she’s no 33-year-old Tippi Hedren. And I don’t think there is anyone out there among today’s actresses who looks even remotely like her. Surely not her own daughter, who will never ever ever ever EVER be a GILF.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! Jeezus that fucking photo is hideous and terrifying. My eyes are burning and have melted into my lap. The apple didn’t just fall far from the tree, it landed in a pile of fresh dog shit hundreds of yards away and cross-pollenated with a fugly tree. I can’t even believe they share some of the same genes.

There, now that’s MUCH better. Absolutely stunning. I may have to go back and watch more of her movies, because I think I have only ever seen The Birds.

I have to stop posting these photos before I wet myself.

Afishionados,

I think I’m better at Photoshopping and making blogs pretty than actually writing good posts, but for some strange reason, there are still some of you out there that feel compelled to stop by and read Old Fish and Lemonade. Thanks to you, another year has passed, and OFAL officially turns 2 years old.

Last year there was some bitching by some that there wasn’t any cake. Well, this year, I baked you a fucking cake. So eat it. EAT IT.

This year was the most fun yet (for me, anyway. I can’t speak for you poor bastards) and I look forward to year three. So let’s step into the DeLorean and take a journey back in time to some of my favorite posts from the past year.

When Seagulls Attack! Where the skies of Naval Station Bremerton are taken over by seagulls carrying delicious, keebler weapons.

Virgin Records Can Suck It. Suck It Hard. Virgin makes it abundantly clear that I am supposed to pirate their music off the Internet, not pay for it.

NASCAR: A Thinking Man’s Sport Game? Further evidence supporting my fact theory that NASCAR sucks.

Blown Hard and Put Away Wet The NAVY gets a day off because of rough wind on the sea. The NAVY.

Barbaro Dies, People Cry, Elmer Rejoices Arguably one of my favorite posts ever. Who knew I could touch the hearts and souls of so many assholes people on the Internet?

Wiing in my Underpants I love this Photoshop image, and Casey’s comment is one of my all time favorites.

Wish You Were Here Dissecting the NAVY’s intelligence when it comes to making brochures.

Kenny Loggins Killed Our Teddy Ruxpin I’m still crying on the inside…

Tin Trinket Not so much for the article, but I really like the photo I took with Photo Booth for Mac.

Hangar Management The photos are what really do this “infomercial” about the Navy true justice.

Straight from the Horse’s Mouth I love poetry. Joey loves poetry. We use some of our talents on Barbaro.

Happy 4th of July and Congratulations to Isaac Some people should not be allowed to have cameras. Or have children.

I’m So Hungry I Could Eat A… A most excellent photo from Andrew that continues the ongoing misfortunes of Barbaro.

Old Fish and Lemonade has become more vulgar and offensive this past year, and has even been de-linked from a blog or two. A couple regular readers don’t seem to post here as much, either. So this year, I promise that things will be different. No more boozing. No more swearing. No more hanging out with Polanski. Just me and Jesus, loving the world together and hugging it one person at a time.

Ah, who the fuck am I kidding? Bring on year three.

Afishionados,

Further evidence in the ongoing investigation into the War on Feather. I told you that birds were evil. More proof, courtesy of Stephen Colbert.

The clip is around 3 minutes or so. The best part is after the bit about the cat. Then it just gets ugly.

Afishionados,

Good news for the War on Feather. Herbie and I have been road trippin’ for the past couple days, driving from Seattle to Ohio. Armed with bottled water and the radio, we made our way east posthaste. (Also, as it turns out, Volkswagen New Beetles, when released back into the open wild, are capable of speeds of 113 MPH through Utah.)

As loyal readers of Old Fish and Lemonade know, all birds are out to kill me. Which is why I am happy to report that, while traveling through Nebraska, Iowa, or some other pointless plains state (I can’t remember), Herbie was attacked by a bird. And won.

While cruising at a comfortable 85 MPH, a small, gray bird flew in front of the car, and LANDED on the road, DIRECTLY in line with the front passenger tire. (Ironically, this is the same tire that killed the raccoon.) Well, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that:

1.) I hate birds

and

2.) It’s impossible to stop immediately from speeds in excess of 5 MPH

So, as you can imagine, the bird lost. After a rather delightful sounding “THWAP”, I looked in the rearview mirror and looked upon a cloud of feathers. It looked like someone had thrown a pillow into a fan. Awesome. One less of their minions to shit on my car. Justice!

Afishionados,

While performing the ritual of “field daying¹” onboard USS Abraham Lincoln, I happened upon a brochure discussing how awesome² Naval Station Everett (NSE) is. I glanced through it and scanned, for your entertainment, the best parts and finest offerings that the base has to provide.

First, the MWR director (seen here after sharting his pants) was kind enough to welcome me at the front of the brochure with an expression of joy that would put even the most skilled Wal-Mart Greeter to shame. Based on his expression alone, I wonder if he served any prison time or really ingested all those fetuses in the first place.

The galley on base is really a small restaurant known as the “All American Restaurant”. The food and dining experiences are much, much better than those on the ship³. Whether you favor Mountain Dew or Wine with your regurgitated noodles matters not, as both are readily available at the All American. It’s always nice to sit down and experience a relatively quiet meal with - AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT IN THE WINDOW??!! THE ALIENS HAVE LANDED AND ARE AFTER US!!! RRRRUUUUUUNNNNN!!!!

Child care services are available to all sailors in the extremely likely event that they will be working long hours in a completely different city than that of CVN-72’s home port. The only stipulation? You must be British.

No base is complete without recreational events. What does NSE have to offer? I have no idea. But this photo sure got my attention and I am all for participating in this event. Shooting gigantic man-eating birds with slingshots? What the hell does this photo really represent? Who cares! Death to Birds!

¹Translation: cleaning for 15 minutes and tryin to look busy for the remaining 2:45.

²And by “awesome”, I mean Not.

³Sitting in a wet diaper and eating grass is probably more favorable than eating onboard the ship, so this isn’t saying a whole helluva lot.

Afishionados,

A great day is upon us and should be celebrated accordingly. Some of you may call this day “Thanksgiving” but I prefer to think of it as “Death and Consumption of Evil Birds Day”.

It’s not about being with your friends and family today. It’s about getting even and sending a message to those feathered bastards that poop all across the planet and are always out to kill me.

Remember: If we kill and eat enough of them, they’re gonna catch on. And they’re gonna be scared. And they’ll eventually leave me alone. So help me out by doing your part: Eat as much damn turkey as you can. We can still win this thing.

Happy Death and Consumption of Evil Birds Day to all of you. I’m thankful to have each and every one of you read my blog so I know that I have at least someone to rant to and that I’m not alone. Right? Hello? Guys…?

Afishionados,

I hate birds. Hate ‘em. They shit all over everything and they’re all out to get me. Today, yet another one of these avian vermin bastards tried to kill me. Fortunately for me (and undoubtedly for you), I survived its malicious attempt.

Today started out as any other shitty happy Navy day. I woke up at 4, took the Navy’s finest transportation system to work, and arrived at 8. Around 8:30 this morning, I left the Pacific’s most-hated greatest aircraft carrier to make a phone call.

The shipyard workers were doing what they do best when I went to use the phone: rehearsing for STOMP. Thankfully, there are phone booths on base that almost provide some noise cancelation when making calls.

When I finished bitching about the Navy telling my parents how awesome the Navy is, I stepped out from the booth and started back for the Abe. Before I had passed the cardboard dumpster, an entire package of Keebler fudge cookies fell from the sky and all but crushed my skull. With reflexes that would make Anakin Skywalker cry with jealousy, I dodged, rolled, jumped, and lept out of the way just in the nick of time.

Once the panic left my body, I heard a sinister “laughing” noise. I looked up and there, on top of the cardboard dumpster, sat the world’s biggest seagull, mocking me. His beady little red eyes met mine and I could see that he was enraged and foaming at the beak. He was mad as hell that his murder attempt failed so miserably and that I had cheated death once more. With a powerful and satanic swoop, he lurched off the dumpster and made straight for my face.

Like a constipated woman on the toilet, I crouched down and screamed at the top of my lungs for dear life in anticipation of the oncoming pain. The gull missed me by mere inches and flew off to shit elsewhere on the base. I was left standing in a pile of my own sweat, staring at the package of cookies. I wondered how in the hell the seagull could lift such an item and where and when the dreaded beast would strike again…

I’ve spent the past three days doing nothing but picking up trash around the Navy base. When I say I’ve done nothing else, I’m not kidding. That’s all I’ve been doing. I don’t really mind it, though. The weather here has been beautiful and it’s a welcome change from a year-and-a-half of training indoors for 16 hours.

Apparently, some admiral is coming to visit the base. Oh, and his wife. I hear his wife mentioned more often than him, so she must be really important¹. Someone has spread new mulch around the base and all the windows have been cleaned for the first time in 200 years.

But the best part about the admiral’s visit is the removal of the seagull shit. Seagulls are everywhere on base, therefore seagull shit is, too. One of the buildings on base features a metal roof and is a favored perch for the seagulls. Unfortunately, the building is also home to several dead seagulls. It’s like they fly up there and then die, just to spite me. Oh, and don’t forget the gallons of bird poop on the roof. Add sun to the mix and you get a nice, toasty odor of dead bird and guano. Did I mention the building spans a couple blocks? Yea, I hope the admiral (and his wife) loves walking past it as much as I do.

It’s impossible (if not incredibly pointless) to wash the roof of the building. The Navy would have to get civilian contractors to climb up there with ladders and pressure washers, and this would mean that the Navy would have to spend money and that hardly ever happens. Unless you are the admiral’s wife and we think you need to smell new mulch. Otherwise, fuck you².

¹I doubt it.

²All opinions expressed on O.F.a.L. do not necessarily represent the opinions of the United States Navy. The author understand that his opinions are generally more correct than those of the government.

Original seagull photo (C)Tim Knight.

I saw this article in the Sydney Morning Herald today. A chicken shop sufferd from a “mysterious fire” and police are “treating the fire as suspicious”.

This incident made me ponder two things, specifically. First, if the fire was an act of vandalism (or perhaps, in this day and age, an act of terrorism), what’s the message here? A Holy War against…birds? And why chickens? Chickens aren’t the most dangerous birds known to mankind.

Secondly, why is this story featured on the front page of the newspaper’s web site? Surely there are more important things going on in the world than this?

But the Fish is here to examine the clues and aid the Sydney police in this matter. I know who’s behind it and I’ve got the facts to prove my case. “A Sydney chicken fire lit” is nothing more than an anagram for “Cheney’s a tricky infidel”. Yes, that’s right, Dick Cheney, the man behind the Quailgate conspiracy of ‘06, is the culprit responsible! A jihad against the most delicious ingredient of the McNugget!

Stock up now, folks. Just because chickens can’t soar, doesn’t mean the prices for them won’t. This attack could shake the very foundations of the fast food world as we know it.

More news as events warrant, here on the Fish News Network.