In one swift motion I set to emancipate the cavalcade of ideas that splintered the air whenever you were released from the weathered barracks of my mind.
I had actively intended on to burying the idea of you.
It was the irresistibility of flirting with disaster when I wrang your number just to hear your name, having nothing to say.
Irony is comedic only in time, where once it sliced.
The question hung: does purging happen in Purgatory, or do thoughts become mute? Paused. I wondered truly.
It was being somewhere on the cusp between “me” and “us” and I was caught holding thin hopes in one hand that we would withstand, and shielding my eyes from even picturing your image with the other.
Duality- a hard iceberg to straddle. Icy waters splash and are no friend, and it’s no fun to slide and fall when you’re all by yourself and not laughing. And there is nobody to pick you up, brush you off, warm you.
The wieght of one steam engine is what it took to pull you out of myself. But like ripping a weed out at the base, disregarding the roots, your face returned, reliably.
Your face. A smooth pallet of yesterday. A memory of the fruit that never fell from the tree. And an understanding of how delicious I’de thought it could be.
Luckily there is time- the magic magnet- pulls heavy metals from blood. Gravel from cuts. Heals wounds, though occasionally trapping debris.
When you come to me now I don’t tremble anymore, but that doesn’t make me steady. You can’t expect to be let in and must know now that you will never know me. Count that. I am tied up in the back for safe keeping. Your embraces last too long, and you’re too small for this song, and the vacancy bulbs are all burnt.
The inception of any fantastical idea is a considerably fair cause for celebration, if not immediate action. In fact, I believe every first should be celebrated in one way or another. Minor victories. Like say you decide last minute to conduct some interviews on a test group, and have some particularly suiting and saucy curiosities to work with, and you are bold enough to make up who you work for in order to support your strange desires. Pill Box, is the moniker that was freshly devised; the moniker that represents a faux-blog. It will somehow serve the public, eliciting the info that only bullshit artists can possibly get! My good friend and I (pictured below in our official hats) set out to the public to conduct random, wayward interviews. This experience was the warmer. This is just the beginning. The aforementioned blog exists not, but will be moonlighting under this here (lovely! (ahem)) Pigeon Heart Ponderings business. Verrrry exciting.
It is amazing what the written word does. Writing “Press” on a piece of scrap paper and safety-pinning it to trucker hats can (and did!) grant surprising credibility.
Every summer we have the Soap Box Derby races here in Portland, Oregon. Everyone hangs out on this dormant volcano, drinking and enjoying the amazing, crazy, and often ridiculous creations that teams of people unite over to make and zip down hill on. The rest of us go for the beer, views, hilarity, shock, aw, and sunny days with friends and strangers. It’s a fantastic scene with some wild and creative folks. What better place to ask questions? I just don’t know.
So what up with the questions, girl? I heard that. Let me premise that I was feeling frisky when I thought up what I was going to be asking. I thought, in that moment, that there’s probably lots of freaky people that would do this type of event, so might as well ask them sexy stuff. I also figured there oughtta be some rebels up in there so might as well milk it. Right? Who’s been in handcuffs, party people?
The first noteworthy interview was with Brian Taylor of “Los Locos Bambaderos”
1. Is this your first derby? “Yes, my 1st!”
2. What’s the inspiration behind your soap box mobile? “The Deviants challenged us. They said they would smoke us. They never even showed up, so we already win by default.”
3. What else inspires you? “Good times.”
4. Who is the hottest contestant here? “The Lone Shark.”
5. If you had to pick a soap box to have sex in which would it be? “The bath tub.” This was the most common answer. Mind you, there were both a hot tub and a bath tub soap box car. The only shot I have of it is behind this crazy fish box car thang.
6. Where’s the craziest place you ever knocked boots? “On a picnic table. In the park. In the middle of the day.” Oww!
7. Have you ever been busted for anything? “Never.” ((Snicker))
8. Are you high right now? “I wish.”
9. Aren’t you afraid of the Mt. Tabor Mangler?! “No.” * This question cracked me up because it was absolutely fictitious; we just wanted to see the responses. I gotta say that pretty much everyone seemed unfazed and unconcerned.
10. If you had to pick a political figure to compete in this race against who would it be and why? Without skipping a beat he says: “Palin. Because she would lose and I would cream her ass!” Zing!
Next contestant interview: Erin of The Mile High Club. Check her out above with the press! This woman is actually in the Mile High Club. I had to shake her hand. That is pretty damn crafty. Unfortunately we didn’t get a flic of her ride, but check out what she had to say:
1. “This is my 5th year at the Soap Box Derby races. Every year I do a different car. I do it with my friends and it is a lot of fun because usually we a re really busy in the summer. This is our down time.”
2. “I’m inspired to take time out for creativity, and also the fact that this is a non profit event.”
3. Sexiest contestants? “The Beauticians.” Boy do I wish I had a better picture! They were getting perms for crying out loud!
4. “I would choose to have sex in the Thomas the Tank soap box car for the irony of it.” A photo is hardly necessary. This replica was pretty spot-on.
5. She was not high.
6. Totally unperturbed by the Mount Tabor Mangler.
7. Would chose to race “Benjamin Franklin because his box car would inevitably be a pretty sweet invention. He would also probably have a really cool costume.” Ha!
Many interviewees had similar responses when it came to inspiration: women and substances. Several contenders were racing for their 1st time, others their 2nd, and some their 5th. Most people have a record, likely involving “youthful indiscretion”. Not one person feared the Mount Tabor Mangler.
There were lots of other incredible mobile creations. This was just intended to share the derby with you and wet your whistles for the good things to come.
So if you fantasize about asking public opinion, but just lack the platform- we’ve gotcha covered. Speak out here to me and if it sounds fun it may very likely be included it in one of our days out, talking with townies… Let’s share the dream! -Making the most out of hitting the streets-
This here lil’ diddy was developed by the Wisconsin RPCV (Returned Peace Corps Volunteers) group. This is a bird’s-eye view into what the world would look like if the population were shrunken down to a village of 100 people with all of the existing human ratios remaining the same. The following is what would be:
61 are from Asia
14 are from Africa
11 are from Europe
8 are from South America, Central America (including Mexico) and the Caribbean
5 are from Canada and the United States
1 is from Oceania (an area that includes Australia, New Zealand and the islands of the south, west and central Pacific) even my computer doesn’t know about Oceania because it’s reprimanding my for misspellings. Twice.
More than half the people in the global village come from the most populated countries:
20 are from China
17 are from India
5 are from the United States
4 are from Indonesia
3 are from Brazil
3 are from Pakistan
More than half of the people speak these 8 languages:
21 speak a Chinese dialect- 16 speak the Mandarin dialect
9 speak English
9 speak Hindi or Urdu
7 speak Spanish crazy, right? My ethnocentric side is all like “What?! I thought everyone spoke Spanish, everywhere!”
4 speak Arabic
4 speak Bengali
3 speak Russian again- this surprised me. It’s a huuuge country! I figured more! And certainly not the same amount of people speaking as….
3 speak Portuguese !
More than half the villagers are under the age of 30. On average, 1 person dies and 3 babies are born every year. A baby born in the village today can expect to live to age 63. Hmmm world average…. Interesting. Three cheers for modern meds, eh? Keeping us up past 40 on the regular.
There is no shortage of food in the global village. If all the food were divided equally, everyone would have enough to eat. But the food isn’t divided equally. No way! So although there is enough to feed the villagers, not everyone is well fed:
20 other people are severely undernourished
Only 30 people always have enough to eat. Count your blessings my friends.
52 would be female
48 would be male
70 would be nonwhite
30 would be… guess… white! right.
68 would be non-Christian
32 would be… you got it.
89 would be hetero
11 would be homo
10 people would possess 59% of the entire world’s wealth. I found this figure rather astounding, assuming the number would be far lower. Trickle down, anyone??
76 would have electricity. Ya’ll are surprised by this too, right? That’s a lot. I figured… well… wrong.
17 would be unable to read. That’s more like it. Not that that’s a good thing, I am just not surprised by that fact. Incase you cared about what I thought! Boy, I’m seeing cynical patterns brewing up inside of me in relation to all this info…
1 would have a college education
17 would not have clean, safe drinking water
43 would not have adequate sanitation (public or household disposal)
32 would breathe air that was unhealthy because of pollution
15 would own a computer. On my bike the other day I rode by a dirty, dusty gutter punk kid sitting outside of his squat messing around on his laptop. Amazing. I composed a list for him in my head for when he’s packing up camp after, oh- I don’t know- train hopping? Do kids do that these days? I might be romanticizing. I used to be in the know!… Toilet paper- check. Leathermen- check. Mangey puppy- check. Banjo with missing string- check. Facial tattoos- check. 100 lb. pack- check. Overalls- check. Sign for skrilla- check. Portable computer—- um- check?
And so~ if you have $$$ in the bank, your wallet, or even spare change in a dish somewhere~ you get to rank among the top 8% of the world’s wealthy
Being able to read this message you have a leg up on the over 2 billion who cannot read at all.
~ Food for thought people. It’s good to have some perspective. Bless up!
Many of our inexplicable urges are primal and connect us to our intrinsic past. A lot of how we operate comes from a deep, ancestrally patterned response system. We act out of habit and it is a habit set if not by ourselves, by our heredity. These actions are set in us for reasons of survival. Many of these things that we respond to have been watered down at this point, and no longer serve the same purposes as earlier times, yet we are left with trace urges that might wiggle and dance out from under thumb when asking why. What we see now as doing for simple fun and/ or pleasure just might be telling of where we came from. “What does she mean?” Let me explain with some supportive examples~
Numba 1: game hunting. Obviously we come from a lineage of hunter gatherers. Men went out to pasture, forest, and plain to bring home the bacon. Hunting was a necessity and provided our sustenance. These days we can bargain hunt for our meats and other fleshy things in the long isles of the grocery store. Most bros I know never even shot an animal… Well, maybe rats with bb guns, but that’s straying from the point. The need to have ill aim, be able to stalk prey (animals, fellas, come on), skin beasts, etc. has silently slipped by as a skill. Right? Right. However, men still have this urge to kill kill kill with out the real need in modern society to do so (purely for sport) and take it out on little Bambis’ of the world, often discarding the meat and saving… the head? Hmm. Something got lost in translation, no? You see- and people still have that innate urge for hunting, despite it’s existence of being a necessity (over all) long gone.
Specimen 2: Buffets. Yes- let’s examine this one fattys’! I kid. This is actually viewable as a relative to the first example, just in different clothing. But again, this is a post on breaking down what we are subconsciously drawn to do in the name of survival. I have noticed time and time again how people will eat faster when there is excess food in front of them. Instead of taking time with what is currently on the plate, they rush through their 1st plate so that they don’t miss out because others ate faster/ more and there are no seconds, though had they taken their time on the first plate they may realize that they were not hungry anymore. That question is disregarded and/ or ignored. So what’s my theory on how this relates to old patterns of survival? This is totally connected to scarcity mentality. During the hunter gatherer day, dependent on the season, it was often feast or famine for peeps. When food was abundant, it was wise to eat what was available, as there were no fridges or storage. People ate what they had while they had it. It was not sensible to abstain from eating because there was no guarantee that abundance would be part of tomorrow. In today’s culture (generally speaking (apart from famine stricken lands)) food is plentiful. The urge to eat and eat till we’re immobile stems from what I am saying. You feeling me?
3rd: Let’s address… Playerrrrs. Alright, I think this is connected to the urge to procreate. I’m not saying that most promiscuous people want to make bunches of babies per-say, but I am saying that the urge to screw as many people as possible stems from the assurance of the tribe continuing. If your sleeping with just one person, there are only so many children they can provide. Knockin boots with several people at once ensures a small gaggle of minis’. People wanted to do it (obvs because it feels fabulous and) to keep the blood line strong and to have extra hands to help raise the roof or whatever they needed. It’s like hunting for sport, people. The chief of tribes would have several wives. They were big biz. Importante. Their ancestry must be continued. Players might just be thinking that they are super important and need to spread seed so that their babies would be popping out a plenty. Think big ego and king of domain mentality.
Possible supporting theories: Making our hair big… Guilty! Or at least I certainly was. Yeah, I sported a wave. And it was taller than yours. And your sisters’. Yup. Lotsa people want to have thick, big ol’ hair. Proof? Weaves, wigs, extensions, hair thickening treatments, teasing, blow outs, hair spray… Maybe this is connected to wanting to appear larger to seem intimidating to predators. ?? I mean, genrally speaking, some crazy chick looks more intimidating to me when she’s got big hair then someone who has short, straight hair. Kinda. I don’t know- it’s a stretch. But just think about it.
But then there are questions… Residual things that don’t make sense.
For example, what is with the urge to talk to people that don’t speak the same language as yourself in an increasingly loud voice? Like if you get to the point where your are shouting you might break the barrier of misunderstanding and they will be suddenly capable of telling you exactly where the bathroom is.
And here’s another. I’ve been trying to wrap my head around this one, and maybe you can help me… What is the deal with the whole appeal of the chase and challenge? The being wanted so bad when you are unavailable or disinterested. The wanting of someone when they do not show clear signs of reciprocity. It is so powerful on both ends. I have seen it now in full circle and got temporarily swept by the force of it. It’s so powerful and something that we all fall victim to, so I am thinking that there has to be a bigger reason for this phenomena. What is the biological basis for the intrigue of the chase and challenge? Is there some larger picture that it fits into to protect us from something? Because I cannot see it, if so. What’s your philosophy? Why do we so often want what we can’t have?
And one left over for the dogs: Spinning around and around in circles before laying down. Even when they are trying to lay on hard wood or carpet… This goes back to when they would have to lay down in tall grasses, they would flatten them down and make a tiny nest-like place to slumber.
Ah, there are so many more for us though, but there’s my jumping point. Do you have any glaring ones?
This is theofficial launching of publicity and requests for my new collection. Get ready for it… I am requesting- ANONYMOUSLY- your MosT embarrassing stories. I want the juiciest of details. I want the funny, the savage, the outrageous, the tormented, the moments inducing the barrage of curse words. GIVE. IT. TO. ME.
Write it out in the comment area if you want- though obviously that would not be anonymous. ORrrr- send them to me here:
Lisita Lawless
3333 NE Morris St.
Portland, OR. 97212
I will collect and post them. Oh boy!!!
Don’t put your name. Just put your truth.
The idea for this came to me when I was watching a TED Talk about a man who went out onto the streets of NYC, handed out 1,000 self-addressed (to his abode) postcards with the simple question on the back: “What is your biggest secret?” Needless to say it caught like wild fire and a website exists now that you simply must check out at www.postsecret.com
His wife and himself receive unruly amounts of people’s dirty laundry from silly, to scandalous, to simply heartbreaking. I gift you with the TED talk that I watched that inspired my brilliant, comparable idea you see today. I am excited!
So, in order to get the juices flowing- I suppose it’s only fair that I give you a good admission. Fine. Fair enough. (Deep breath) … Well, the truth of the matter is that a lady like myself runs into things a good bit on the often tip- that are pretty ridic. I have a bit of a penchant for it. That being said, the first things that come to mind have to do with peeing. Either a devil lives inside my bladder and takes up all the room, I have a premie one, or I only have a year and some months left on my bladder before it gives out completely… so yeah, you’re about to get a good pee story. And the answer is yes, for the record; I do fear incontinence.
Setting: The mountains of Mexico, on a a janky, rickety, music-blaring bus with those little hanging fabric balls (bolitas pequeñas??) for proper decor. And dashboard-Jesus too. It was mostly campesinos on this piece. And there’s me. Chilling. Actually, that is a huge lie. I was not chilling. I had to take a wiz like nobody’s business. No one else seemed phased by the fact that we would only stop for long enough to pick people up, and if you dare disboard and were not on the bus by the time the (crazy f*%^ing drive-like-a-death-wish) driver was ready to bounce, sucked for you. So I was under silent torture. Everyone around me was settled in on those crazy roads- perhaps the best way to deal was to catch some rest, but nope, I wasn’t that lucky. I had to go. And to make matters worse, I was surrounded by strangers. A friend that was traveling with me was one row across and one seat up, so they could do me no solids (not a foreshadowing pun). Finally I asked her if she had a plastic bag. She knew right away why. Bitch! She liked it too much. No bag though. I fumbled through my belongings until I found a beautiful, gorgeous, thin, blessed plastic bag. I blew it up to check for wholes because I am very smart like that. Safe. Now again, I will remind you- everyone around me was sleeping. Accept my pal, of course, and that was fine. I squat down off my seat and pulled my pants down and ahhhhhh. Relief. Pants up, bag hanging, BUT suddenly- a river. The bag had deceived me and had a terrible whole. A very bad whole! And the river- there she was, twisting rivulets down the isle and around, and into people’s belongings, and all over the floor. And here is the craziest part- people began waking up. This will never make sense to me. Liquid is silent. Things spill on the bus. Those 2 facts put together do not sensibly equate to waking up the sleeping. How? Was this something they were hyper aware of due to others going through the same thing? Well people started to get very excited and upset. Before the people next to me woke up I managed to chuck my rapidly deflating bag-of-pee out of the window (which is part of the (fairly generous) list of the reasons for why I am going to hell) and look relatively innocent. My friend on the other hand, had completely lost her shit. She was out of her body laughing. She could not get it together. There was nothing to be done.
All in all, I was never burned at the stake, or got found out about for that matter, but still the experience with terrible and embarrassing, and I am sure that there was at least one other person that saw the entire ordeal unravel. Yup, pretty embarrassing. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Something has got a hold of me. It’s bigger than my words can net. I’ll try to climb to the top and find a suitable description. Should be a good traverse…
Let’s just call it for now and say that there has been a shift. I find, as I grow older and step into my adulthood more that my capacity to love has deepened. Once again, this hails in the realm of reclamation~ (see Reclaiming Romantic post) when I say love, I’m not specifically talking about with a man, but love of ALL things, large and small. However, I do believe the next time that I fall in love it will be deeper than ever before… because why else go there at this point? Obviously.
The older I become, the more I cry in the name of beauty. Yes, I’m laying it on the table. I’m not a sap, I just get choked up at the good stuff. (I am not a crier in general, with the acception of movies. (Fine, commercials too if it’s around a certain time of month.) It’s kind of wild. I teared up at the park yesterday, all by myself, because the temperature was so beautiful, and the time of dusk was a favorite of mine. It was the time when the lightening bugs would have begun to flash were we in a place that had them. It’s a peek of my childhood; running in fields, catching and releasing. Marveling. It’s amazing how deep the memory and feeling go. If I was back east I know they would have been all over that park, in between the trees, hovering about the field.
A woman was strolling while I was having my moment and I wanted to share it. Every now and then I am compelled to reach out and have a completely random exchange with a total stranger. I asked her if she was from here (Portland, Oregon) and she told me no. We got to talking and it turned out that she too was from an area where there were fireflies. There was a vacant lot full of wild flowers across from the house where she grew up. We talked about the sweetness of them, and then the conversation shifted to bees. It was lovely. It was such a special, simple, and fluid talk. It was one of those things that was so fulfilling because of it’s true and pure nature. It brought me great peace…
Appreciation for the smallest of things- be it memories or stolen moments has simply increased. It’s nice to observe and allow it to run it’s course. Who knew I would become that person ((sniff))? Ah life, you’re such a wild ride.
“They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions”. I hear Lauryn Hill in my head singing this one loud, on repeat, echoing behind me when I am being attacked and tormented by the Ironic Jukebox that lives deep inside my cerebral cortex. Haven’t you experienced this? Like when you (I) offer the lady your seat on the bus because she is pregnant and it seems too obvious that there is no way she is not carrying? But she is not, and now you biffed big time? Because you got up cheerfully, telling her that she needs it more because of the baby inside?… This is about good deeds gone bad. This is not to disuade anyone ever from doing something kind, but is to draw on the comical, the ironic, and the ridiculous boomerang effect that takes place every now and again when you have nothing but good thoughts in mind. I think it just might the devil on dial. Somehow he temporarily dislodged from the hot gates of hell and he’s at the control board and the mo-fo has got some dark-ass-humor. Kiiiinda dig it.
That being said, I’ve been feeling rather spritely lately. I’m thinking the spring has shaken something loose. Makes we wanna do something nice for the sake of nothing in particular. I wanna skip but I don’t because I want my lady-swagger, so I move cat-walk style on the streets and around town, and skip a bunch on the inside. Despite it raining like a maniac today (I think Mother Nature is PMSing or something), people out here are starting to stir and be over-the-top sweet to each other. Anyone else out there take notice of this?
Ex: People stop when I try to cross the street. Don’t matta if there are a bunch of cars behind them and I could have just as easily taken the cross walk. Or there are no cars behind them and they could have gone at regular speed and not made such a grand gesture of an event by slowing down and stopping unnecessarily. It’s dumb. I’m partially grateful because of the intention, but the rest of me actually prefers that people obey the rules of the road and get on with it. It’s simply more efficient. Don’t tell anyone that I said that I appreciate a rule. Please. Ok.
Today I was walking my (radical) dog in the rain and decided to cross the street. I was waiting on the curb for the cars to go by (and no, I wasn’t standing in the street) and a car stops out of nowhere for me to cross~ creating a pile up. For fucks sake. Nice one.
It’s the thought that counts?
Several years ago, in my hippy-nouveau days, I took this yogic workshop that focused on Ujjayi breathing. (I was the youngest person there and it blew my (not so) baby mind to be mixing with all of these middle-age, innocuously-strange, middle-class, workers -something rare in Portland as we are a town of retired 30-somethings.) It was a week-long workshop consisting of homework and practice routines and everything. Very involved. One of our assignments was to perform a random act of kindness. I was determined to be as unique and creative as possible. I talked to my roommate at length about ideas which he shot down repeatedly with the caveat of my actions being misinterpreted. Finally he left for work and I was left to my own devices. I wanted to do something that would reach completely stray people. I wanted to encourage them and have them think somebody out there really cared. I settled on the idea of writing anonymous love letters to strangers. Yes I sure did! Phone book in my lap, I pointed slapdash, at where ever my finger landed, wrote down their names and addresses, and mustered up some genuine sentiment for each person. I really tried to meditate on who they were and what kind of message they might have been needing. I felt the vibes. And really- who knows? Maybe the universe brought it. Either way, I did. And I did it 10x. I made ten different personalized and pretty envelopes. I wrote things along the lines of acting like I was someone from their past or someone on the periphery who had noticed big and beautiful changes and growth in them, and I wanted to acknowledge and applaud them in that… This likely took several hours. I do not recall. It sure felt good though! Off to the depths of the mailbox they went, and when my roommate got home and inquired about my project, acted slightly horrified. “What if you cause a fight between couples?” “What if someone thinks their man is cheating with you (but of course I hadn’t included a return address)?” “What if they get scared that they are being watched?!” Well shit. The god-damn flip side. Buzzzzz kill. Good intentions gone awry? I may never know.
One other example I will give you is as follows. It was a couple of summers ago, on a particularly hot day. I was walking passed a highly foot-trafficked intersection where this dude was laying, passed-out on the ground. I swear I watched a bus pull up, people get out, and walk around the guy. Nobody stopped. Now granted, dude was gnarly looking. Crusty street kid, probably in his late twenties/ early thirties. He was shirtless, black pants, tattoos all around, and homey was frying there on the sidewalk. For really red. Zoinks! So up I go to see if I can help. I whisper gently to him and rouse him from his drug induced sleep. His eyes rolled slowly from the back of his head as he looked around trying to get his bearings. I informed him that he was passed out in the middle of the sidewalk and that he better go find some shade if he needs to sleep because he was burning baby burning. He got up, dazed and confused (no really! I get it now!) and stumbled into the street, nearly causing a few accidents, and smashing hard into this old man. He thinks the old man pushed him, so he pushes the poor old guy into the street! Luckily there were no cars there at the moment! I had created a monster. I truly considered calling the police. Eesh.
Anyways, those are two of my tales of the flip side of things. I have no moral to this story. Shit happens. Moral enough for ya?
I would love to hear your experiences along these lines. Entertain me por fa!
How about some lawful entertainment? …I’m following the rules today! Well- with my eyes, that is. Fingers too. By proxy. Aaaand that’s about it- but you gotta start somewhere. And I am transferring some still on record legal stipulations that could and in some cases did/ do(?!) land folks in hot water, complete with some commentary by yours truly. Easy entertainment, babes.
As you’re reading this I encourage you to think about the scenarios behind the makings of these laws. I mean come on- for something to get passed from a bill through the house and make it all the way to a shiny law is a big to-do. There are some wing-nuts out there for sheezy. But you already knew that… Ju ready?
Alabama: It is illegal to wear a fake mustache that causes laughter in church. They might distract from the hilarity of toupees.
Alaska: Whispering in someone’s ear while he’s moose hunting is prohibited. Save the sexy, primal, hunter/ gatherer build up for the campsite fellas’.
Arizona: Cutting down a cactus may earn you a twenty-five-year prison term. Cacti advocates unite.
Arkansas: It’s illegal to mispronounce the name of the state of Arkansas. Someone’s sensitive.
California: You may not eat an orange in your bathtub. See?? They don’t have all the fun!
Colorado: It is unlawful to lend your vacuum cleaner to you next-door neighbor (Denver). One can only begin to imagine what they tried to clean up.
Connecticut: A pickle cannot be a pickle unless it bounces. 5 second rule?
Delaware: It’s illegal to get married on a dare. Clearly they had this law in place before the days of double-dog-dares ever came into existence.
Washington, D.C: It’s against the law to post a public notice calling someone a coward for refusing to accept a challenge to a duel. Are signs on telephone polls considered public notices? How official are we talking? Ads in the Five and Dime? Is gossip a safe, lawful form of information spreading?
Florida: If you tie an elephant to a parking meter, you must pay the same parking fee as you would for a vehicle. This is a very good reason for road rage. So unfair when they park an elephant in prime locations!
Georgia: It’s illegal to change the clothes on a storefront mannequin unless you draw the shades first. Guess you gotta go pay for porn.
Hawaii: All residents may be fined for not owning a boat. Yes! Tax the poor!
Idaho: A man must not give his sweetheart a box of candy weighing fewer than fifty pounds. Hmmm… some insight into the obesity problem maybe? Competitive gift giving and chocolate eating. What a match.
Illinois: It’s illegal to take a French poodle to the opera (Chicago). I can just imagine the pair that tried to bring their snooty, snotty dog into the place. Muffy and Chaz.
Indiana: The value of pi is 4, and not 3.1415. You know, that is what is so great about math. It’s so flexible.
Iowa: One-armed piano players must perform for free. Damn, not even half price? No love. This does make perfect sense, as mastery of any instrument with one hand verses two requires no skill. No skill= no pay.
Kansas: It’s illegal to throw knives at men wearing striped suits. Polka dots make much better targets.
Kentucky: Every citizen is required to take a shower once a year. If only they would make this law in Portland for people on the bus. And in NY for people on the subway. And multiply it by 12. Ok 24. Fine 48.
Louisiana: Biting someone with your natural teeth constitutes simple assault, but biting someone with your false teeth classifies as aggravated assault. Man’s law.
Maine: If you keep your Christmas decorations on display after January 14, you’ll be fined. Like it’s gonna pull the snow away or something?
Maryland: It’s against the law to wash or scrub a sink, no matter how dirty it is (Baltimore). Umm ew?
Massachusetts: No gorilla is allowed in the backseat of any car. Clearly they’re fine at least w/ them driving there. Zing! And I’m thinking maybe that’s who was in charge of putting all those one-way streets everywhere inconvenient. Eh? Eh?
Michigan: A woman may not cut her own hair without her husband’s permission. Michigan: Home of the wuzbands.
Minnesota: It is illegal to paint a sparrow with the intent of selling it as a parakeet. Hahahahaha.
Mississippi: Walking a dog without dressing it in diapers is forbidden (Temperance). I have a solution. Yes- this really exists! And there are choices!! Rear gear
Missouri: Children may buy shotguns in Kansas City, but not toy cap guns. Somethings just make sense.
Montana: It’s a felony for a wife to open her husband’s mail. As it should be.
Nebraska: Bar owners may not sell beer unless they brew a kettle of soup simultaneously. Beer soup anybody? Or is it just borsht by default? Safe guesses.
Nevada: It’s illegal for men with mustaches to kiss women. Finally the government is on my side.
New Hampshire: It’s forbidden to sell clothes you’re wearing to pay off a gambling debt. You KNOW this was a Very Sad Night for dude. Oof.
New Jersey: It’s against the law for a man to knit during the fishing season. Really pissed off the fish community.
New Mexico: Females may not appear unshaven in public. Did Santa Fe secede?
New York: While riding in an elevator, you must talk to no one, fold your hands, and look toward the door. I fantasize about performing social experiments in elevators all the time. Like: “So! How are you? What’s the best thing about today? Are you comfortable talking to strangers? What’s the craziest thing you ever did with a stranger? What’s the craziest thing you would do with a stranger? Have you ever heard Love in an Elevator? You ever made love in an elevator? Would you?” etc. The tip of the iceberg.
North Carolina: It’s against the law to sing off-key. Meanies. Hey! Wait! Are there any famous singers that came out of this place?! So discouraging! Look what happened. Poor singingless suckers.
North Dakota: It’s illegal to lie down and fall asleep with your shoes on. Or wake up with no eyebrows and cocks drawn all over your face? O wait, that’s party town rule, not U.S. wide…
Ohio: You must honk the horn whenever you pass another car, according to the state’s driver’s education. That’s just annoying. Nothing cheeky for you, Ohio.
Oklahoma: It’s forbidden to take a bite out of another person’s hamburger. Good, no one wanted your boring, middle of nowhere burger anyway, fatty.
Oregon: State law requires the dishes to be drip-dried. What. the. hell.
Pennsylvania: It’s illegal to sleep on top of a refrigerator outdoors. I am NEVER moving there. Settled.
Rhode Island: You may not bite off another person’s leg. Yes it really is their law. But what is striking to me is it seems to imply that the leg may not be bitten off with one swift munch, right? What about slow or even tender, calculated nibbles? Fork and knife? So civil.
South Carolina: If a man promises to marry an unmarried woman, he is required by law to keep his promise. Did anyone else just get Meatloaf in their heads? No? How about now?
South Dakota: It is illegal to lie down and fall asleep in a cheese factory. Concluding the fact that the moon is NOT made out of cheese.
Tennessee: Selling hollow logs is strictly forbidden. Walkin’ on the wild side.
Texas: You may not shoot a buffalo from the second story of a hotel. In Texas you face a buffalo like a real man. Mano a mano. Buffalo ain’t got nothing if you’re a real cowboy.
Utah: It is illegal not to drink milk. I am a total rebel in Utah! Yes!
Vermont: Women must obtain written permission from their husbands to wear false teeth. Haaaaaaaaa! “Only when we go out, baby.” Ah! Too. many. jokes. Bottlenecking!!
Virginia: Ticking a woman is unlawful. L is for Lame. At least amend it so that you can’t tickle a chica until she pees, but not a tickle? Not even one? Oh wait- I don’t care.
Washington: It’s illegal to pretend that one’s parents are wealthy. Do you think that some sucka rich babe of ripe dating age got conned by some slickster chap who brought it like it wasn’t? Parents didn’t ‘ppreciate that one, no sir.
West Virginia: If you make fun of someone who does not accept a challenge, you risk a six-month prison sentence. Wow. Touchy.
Wisconsin: Unless a customer specifically requests it, margarine may not be substituted for butter in a restaurant. Well, it is safer with butter it seems. I remember hearing about a test where two bowls were left in a rat infested warehouse. Butter went gone. Margarine went untouched. Supposedly. A la yuck.
Wyoming: Unless you have an official permit, you may not take a picture of a rabbit from January to April. They are more fit in the Spring? Bashful bunnies! New band name?
And I’m out. Hope you enjoyed. See you in Canada (;
Pigeon Heart Ponderings 