giggle pop

In interest of making my blog more about educational topics and not just half naked European athletes and sports in general this post is my attempt at a nature documentary. Today I will teach you about a mysterious creature with some very strong mysterious powers. Some women are born with a natural resistance to this creature, however, I like many was not born with such a resistance. I have fallen prey to this benign looking creature too many times to count. This creature is the sex porcupine.

Here are some basic facts on the sex porcupine

Other Names: Sexus Porcupinus, Xavier Hernandez, Xavalicious

Native territory: Barcelona, Spain also found in the general Catalonia region, Central midfield, Camp Nou, Gigglepop’s dreams and/or fantasies

Height: 1.70 m

Weight: 66 kg

Here is a photo of the sex procupine in captivity


General physical characteristics: Big chocolate brown eyes, pouty expression, perma 5 o’clock shadow, superior passing skills, superior free kick skills, Collects giant trophies

Defining characteristics: Perfectly spiky hair, Intense, unexplainable, incomprehensible sex appeal

Ways of attack: Beware of the sex porcupine’s spikies, or as the experts call them “prickles.” The prickles is the source of the sex porcupines powers and if you are luck you may just get prickled by them. Sometimes the sex porcupine is seen wearing an armband, this is when females are at greatest danger of attack

Be careful, while this creature may look harmless it makes up what it lacks in stature by a gigantic amount of sexy. The sex porcupine has been known to bath in random villages, here is a familiar image from the wild…


A special thanks to Lola for the photo modifications

A while ago someone asked me to explain when I meant by “that horse at Mardi Gras” when referring to being attacked by animals. I figured telling this story would give you, my readers, a deeper insight into just who I am. So here it is, the story of how I almost got into a fight with a horse. Really I was defending myself so it is the story of how a horse attacked me and I almost fought back.

Let’s go back a few years, it was my first year of law school in New Orleans, and it was my first Mardi Gras. I figure I should explain the few days leading up to the equestrian encounter so you can understand just how I ended up wanting to fight a horse. It was Friday afternoon and a girl I did not know all to well yet, let’s call her Miss Jaco, gave me a call and asked me to go to a parade. Wanting to get in on this whole Mardi Gras thing, and never one to pass down drinking on a street I of course said yes. I get picked up by Miss Jaco, another friend who I will call “Limbo” and Miss Jaco’s boyfriend at the time, lets call him “Freddy.” We all head to the parades giant daiquiris (with extra shot) in hand, and start jumping up and down trying to catch beads and other cheap plastic doo-dads which I had no problem pushing children, bitches, and old people out of the way to get.

I learned after that first parade, I frickin’ LOOOVE Mardi Gras. It involves many of my favorite things: festive costumes, cheap toys, colorful things, drinking on the street, large drunken crowds, endless walking, and just general inappropriate behavior. Now most people from New Orleans hang out on the parade routs in neighborhoods, there is lots and lots of partying and not really any of that flashing stuff, thankfully. After the parades ended our little group wandered to one of our many favorite watering holes F&M’s patio bar. If you have never been to New Orleans or never wandered off of Bourbon Street on your visit let me explain F&M’s to you. We would often refer to it as “the black hole.” It looks just as sketchy inside as it does outside…and that is pretty damn sketchy. It is unwise to show up before 1am, and unheard of to show up before midnight. If you go in, it is a miracle if you get out before 6am, if you leave there before 6am it will only be to go to an even sketchier bar that will be open even later. It also has the most incredible cheese fries, they may be the single best drunken food on the planet, they are magical. We stayed there until god knows when, and I luckily ended up in my bed.

I wake up a few hours later, parades start early on Saturday, and we had to get there plenty early to get a good spot. So this day it was just me, Miss Jaco, and Freddy. We get our giant daiquiris, load up the cooler and head out. Spend the day at parades, wander various bars and then decide to go to a friend’s apartment, let’s call him “tool bag” in the warehouse district which is in proximity to the French Quarter. Now let me explain, I had not even come close to sobering up when I woke up Saturday morning, and I had started drinking almost immediately so by the time we arrived at tool bag’s apartment I had been considerably drunk for about 28 consecutive hours.

After drinking at tool bag’s apartment for a while the three of us leave and wander to Bourbon Street for the “experience.” We start wandering down the street and get a Hand Grenade (another special highly alcohol filled New Orleans drink, like the giant daiquiri). Bourbon Street is packed with people, crazy touchy people everywhere. I am kind of scared, very drunk and clinging to my friends and my hand grenade. We stop for a minute, and all of a sudden I feel something stomp on my foot. When I say stomp I mean STOMP it hurt sooooo bad. I start thinking “duuude, there is no way someone did that on accident, someone just stomped on my foot and I need to find out why.” So as I get over the initial pain I turn around with my arms out in my best pissed off pose and say “what is your problem” expecting to see some d-bag who stepped on my foot.

When I turned around it was not a person, in fact I had NO idea what it was. All I saw was a giant weird looking creatures face looking at me. I was beyond confused, and said quietly and intensely “WHAT ARE YOU??!!??” In a miraculous moment of clarity I realized it was a horse, not just a horse, a horse with a policeman on it. And I then realized my plan to push and/or confront whoever it was that stomped on me was not in fact a good plan. It was in fact a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad plan, and I scurried away confused.

The next morning I was woken up by the scent of a full hand grenade (we must have gone back for seconds) and was never in such pain. Not only in pain from a hangover, but also the intense smell of midori, and the ginormous bruise on my foot.
I learned many valuable lessons that night:
1. Mardi Gras brings out my fightin’ side
2. Horses are to be feared, and I still fear and avoid them
3. I am certain the horse intended to step on me
4. You can actually get drunk enough to not be able to recognize the most basic of farm creatures
5. Never fall asleep cuddling with full hand grenade the smell is hands down the worst smell ever when hungover
6. Any time I start drinking before noon usually ends both simultaneously horribly and hilariously
7. Miss Jaco ended up being one of my best friends and this was far from our last or most epic drunken adventure.
and I think the most interesting part of this all is that this story does not surprise most people I know in the slightest, and this was only night two of my five day Mardi Gras bender.

This picture is of a stuffed horse I caught at my third, and likely final, Mardi Gras…I took it as a sign that life always comes full circle.

As some of you may recall a while back I had a bit of a battle with a little squirrel in my yard that kept getting into a bird feeder. Well here is an update on the little brat. First off I named him Ronnie. Because like his namesake, he is annoying, ballsy, way too full of himself, and unfortunately good at what he does. Though, unlike Human-Ronnie, he is not doing step-overs, scoring goals, taking off his shirt, rolling on the ground, and banging prostitutes-- Squirrel-Ronnie is master at breaking into the damn bird feeder.

The other day I see him in the bird feeder so I decide to scare him away. I go outside he jumps out and sits on the ground and looks at me. Not one to back down to a challenge I throw my shoe at him. Squirrel-Ronnie dodges it skillfully and proceeds to chirp at me. Afraid of the ballsy little thing, and my history of being attacked by wildlife, I run back in the house. I glare out the window, now it is really on.

The next day I decide this is going to end once and for all. I grab a roll of duct tape and I duct tape the hell out of that bird feeder. The birds can still get in but there is no way Squirrel-Ronnie can get in, right? WRONG! For a few days I watch him try with futile efforts to get into the feeder, and laugh as he fails. But then what do you know, I come home from work and the cover (still covered in duct tape) is laying on the ground and Squirrel-Ronnie is up in the tree chirping at me, mocking me.

I am not sure what my next move will be, but this war is far from over.

Here is an old pic of Squirrel-Ronnie in the feeder.

As many of you know I live in the middle of frickin nowhere, and many of you also may know that one of my favorite activities is distance running. Living in the country has its down sides, but one major upside is endless deserted roads to run forever and ever on. While the road I live on has “highway” in the name, it is a damn road, and I run on it a lot. While running on my road I see lots of interesting things and I figured I would share a few of them with you.

Dashing Deer—this area is overrun with them, they are everywhere. I like them in my yard, at a distance, but not when I am out alone on the road. The other day two ran right in front of me, and when I say right in front of me I mean I could have reached out and touched them. If they ran out into the road about thirty seconds later I would have been crushed by a herd of deer, which would not be a surprising death for me. Another fun fact about me—I often get attacked by animals. To name a few instances…when I was younger a pig chewed on me, I got stalked and attacked by a baby ram at a petting zoo, and then there was that horse at Mardi Gras.

Creepy Corner—Recently I started getting more motivated and finally decided to run up the big hill at the end of the road and see what was up around the bend. Well I discovered that the bend is pretty damn creepy. The nice paved road turns to dirt, which is nice on the knees for running so I kept going. I discovered a “farm.” Well it looks like a farm, but all they seem to be growing on the farm is three or four cows and a crap load of rusty cars. This should have been m first signal to turn around, but running through creepy places at dusk is just too much fun so I kept going. Next up on creepy corner is a little shack/house that paint and everything else is falling off of. I am about 76% sure there are some lampshades in there made out of people.

Fernando the Fox—There is a spot on the road I hit in the middle of my run (usually around 6:30pm if you want to stalk me) and in that spot there is almost always a fox sitting there. I named him Fernando. Just so you know it is after Fernando Gago NOT Fernando Torres. Nothing too exciting about Fernando the Fox other than he is super duper cute and has not attacked me yet. It is not everyday you see a fox so I think he is pretty cool.

Cobra Kai—Yesterday morning I was dragging my fat lazy dog on a walk and I saw someone walking in the distance. I slowly got closer and realized this person was dressed in all white, and as I got even closer I realized it was a man. I thought it was odd to see a man dressed in all white, well in this area it is. While living in New Orleans I am sure I saw a few in all white linen or white suits. Anyways as he got closer I realized he was in a full karate outfit. Let me reiterate I live on a back country road, the closest thing that is not a bar is about ten miles away. I have no idea where he was going or why he was dressed like that. I was tempted to yell out “how’s it hanging Cobra Kai?” but I was worried he may roundhouse kick me in the face.

The other direction—I have only ran one direction from my house, some day I will venture the other direction. I have driven that way a bit and know the road forks. One fork leads to a place called “big timber” I have no idea what it is, but it has a fancy brown sign, so must be cool. I hope it is a giant tree. The other fork goes to the bar. Both pretty awesome destinations.

Apparently there is more than one breed of squirrel, I guess I knew some looked different than others, but I am told some are worse than others. I once saw a flying squirrel, now that was pretty cool. Anyways, there is a cute breed of squirrels who live in my yard, people say they are bad because they chew on houses or something. I always thought they were misunderstood with adorable little ears…until one made things personal. Anyone who knows me, knows I often have battles with animals and/or inanimate objects, and now I have been entirely outsmarted by a squirrel.

We have a few different bird feeders in the yard, and bird feeders can be pretty high tech, especially when you have many who want to eat the bird feed that are not birds i.e. bears, deer, squirrels. One of our bird feeders is especially tricky and I have never figured out how to open it. This bird house/feeder is designed to be super-duper anti-squirrel. It is on top of a long slipper pole, has a slippery roof, and the part you eat out of closes if something heavier than a bird on it. This feeder/house is also anti-giggle pop because it has some weird latch thing to open it that I cannot figure out how to open. Somehow one of the squirrels managed to climb onto the house/feeder, unlatch it and get inside. Now it sits in there eating the bird seed and every once in a while popping his head up and mocking me. I still cannot figure out how he gets in there and I still cannot figure out how to get in there myself.

The crafty squirrel at work...

Here are somethings I was thinking about today that you probably did not want to know.

I hope you got the reference to "The Office" in the header

I am convinced 24 is the most awesome show ever made, and Jack Bauer is the coolest/sexiest man ever. If you have not been watching this season you should, it’s awesome.

Glaze doughnuts and iPhones do not mix.

Do you ever watch those shows about the apocalypse on the History channel? I do. I mean you never know, right? Anyways, I am fascinated when they have the experts on. There is always some guy who knows more than anyone reasonably should about something like the meaning of the third horseman’s hat. It makes me wonder, what event in their life prompted them to become an expert in something completely random. There seems to be turning points in everyone’s lives that lead to an interest in things. Like various events in my life have resulted in me really wanting to stop and eat every time I see a white castle. I just wonder what event in their life led them in the direction to be an expert in apocalyptic prophecy. I also wonder where I can find one of their phone numbers. They seem like a useful friend to have around, you know, if they are right and the world is ending soon.

Do you ever find yourself liking a song you really wish you did not like? Right now I can’t stop listening to Britney Spears “Circus.” Though watching her life is an amusing glimpse in to the crystal ball of the future of Miley Cyrus and Taylor Swift.

I love watching reruns of the show wife swap on lifetime network. I am also fully aware of all the things wrong with that statement.

I used to feed the animals in my yard because I thought they were cute. I still think they are cute, but in the back of my mind I secretly wonder if I stop feeding them will the try and eat me instead.

Now, it seems to be a consensus around the world that Australia is a pretty cool place. I have never been and definitely would not mind going. Unfortunately my knowledge of the place is mainly derived from my own fantasies of surfers with accents, Jay from “The City”, and the 80’s classic “Land Down Under.” Then today I discovered yet another reason to want to visit Australia, kangaroos! In case you were wondering I have always wanted a pet kangaroo, I would train it to bring me snacks and diet sodas in its pouch.


I was familiar with the creature, even saw one hopping around the Gonzaga campus (I am serious, a real kangaroo). I knew they lived in Australia and looked something like this.


I always figured that they were pretty rare, as most cool animals seem to be. That was until this morning, when I learned something new. I saw on a morning talk show, which I watched for about 5 minutes (I will discuss my feelings on morning talk shows at a later time) that there are twice as many kangaroos as people in Australia. That is just awesome. Now with the chances of a kangaroo encounter seeming much more likely, the land down under is moving to the top of the list of places I want to visit.

Related note, another wonderful export of Australia—Golfer Adam Scott: Manmeat with a side of vegemite.



Song of the day: Men at Work “Land Down Under”
Why: A classic is a classic