Bye Bye Birdie

I wasn't even going to post today, but thanks to my homeslice Club Vintage who found these (for sale on ebay, of all places), I figured it was a MUST to share these heels with you guys.

I think it's safe to say, these too can be filed under: Oh, SNAP.


And so, I give you ... the birdcage shoe:




I hate birds (seriously), but these are totally acceptable. Plus, they're studded! Peep toe! Ankle strap! Velvet! Can't...form...sentences...


These super rare Vintage La Rose Birdcage Heels are currently up for auction on ebay with 4 days to go, at a current price of $100 with the reserve not met. Oy. Let's torture ourselves more, shall we?




It's a bird! In a cage! For the heel! Naturally they're a wee vintage size 6.5, which means they probably fit like a modern size nuthin'. (Dammit!) But they sure are purdy to look at!

Too Much Pork for Just One Fork

What in the name of Kentucky Fried Chicken is THAT?



This pterodactyl has been sitting high up in a tree in my backyard for hours this morning, just sitting and staring...plotting. Have I mentioned lately that birds scare the holy bejesus outta me and I think they're all a bunch of flying jerks? Because they do and they are. Even at a distance you can tell he's gonna be a big mofo.





Just look at the size of this freak! I'm telling you, he winked at me, like he knows something. I hope vulture isn't on the endangered species list, because this sucker should do nicely in the backyard deep fryer. Budweiser-batterd fried vulture and banana puddin' with extra skin, now that's a feast the pilgrims can be proud of.

Birdhouse In Your Soul

And now for something totally random! Have you ever gotten up on the right side of the bed early in the morning and the day is already starting out to be perfect and sunny and wonderful? Me neither. But I got up for once feeling all Snow White-y and nature-y and crap, enjoying the last fleeting moments of summer. Fall is headed this way, here on the upper east coast (east siiide represent!), and you know you're in for an especially long winter when leaves are changing color and falling off the trees ALREADY. What the HELL, Mother Nature?! I already have a stocked arsenal of Claritin for the special occasion of moldy leaves, yay!

So I'm rocking my artsy fartsy side today with nature shots. Nature shots, me! Don't worry, I'm not embracing the light and turning like, good. Usually me + nature= bad news bears, but today I'm loving the bits-o-color left in my yard.

Creepy cool.



Training the ivy to grow crazy-like, as if I live in some kind of charming English cottage or something.



Aww, a bumblebee on a sunflower. How freaking sweet. It's sweet, dammit!



Nothing special here, just digging the color.



A birdhouse waaay up in a tree in the front yard, which I never even knew existed. The birdhouse I mean, not the tree. I'd have to be especially stupid to not see a giant tree in the front yard. But notice the half-assed nest on top of the birdhouse? Lazy birds. Housing fail.

Hanging On The Telephone

I hate birds. They're flying disease machines with eyeball-scratchy claws and beaks of pokey torture and just the thought of them flying anywhere near my personal space is enough to make me run for the hills. If the hills were made of Xanax. Am I a mental case? Magic 8 Ball says "it is certain"! Ever notice how sometimes they're ganged up in the parking lot and when you walk past them they don't even flinch, but instead give you the "oh no you DIDN'T" look? They're up to something and probably shouldn't be trusted. Those arrogant flying jerks.

Here is my backyard. It's crammed with really dense, low hanging trees, jungle-like and kinda dark, so when birds fly, they pretty much have to fly low to the ground, under all the branches. In my PERSONAL SPACE.



(Pay no mind to the random barrel in the background. That's where the menfolk shoot empty cans with BB guns. Can you hear Dueling Banjos yet? And if you're the "BB guns are evil" type, then that's where the menfolk sit and talk about their feelings and write poems.)

So while in this overgrown backyard, I was on the phone with my sister-in-law leaving a message on her voice mail when 2 birds were hauling ass past my head at warp speed and I'm pretty sure I looked in their eyes and saw Satan laughing at me. It was EXACTLY like this:



Except it was nothing at all like that but if FELT like it went down that way. So while the birds were dive-bombing me I was quite literally screaming, "Oh my GOD! Birds! Back! Back!" and waving my arms around wildly, all the while this was being recorded on the voice mail I was leaving. My sister-in-law called me back later and said "Are you retarded? Are you kidding me, you're scared of birds?!". As if my in-laws don't already think I'm odd, this just makes them think even MORE highly of me. Good times.

The only birds I can approve of are the not-real types. Like these Flying Jerks on a wicked awesome vintage 50's Catalina swimsuit offered by my homeslice Ang of Dorothea's Closet Vintage. DIRTY BIRDS...



What's that you say? What are they doing? Leapfrog? Nope. The Heimlich maneuver? Nope....



That's right. They're DOING IT. Getting their freak on, birdy style. Which is still creepy, but better to have a cool novelty print of them doing it than having them actually FLYING AT YOUR FACE while doing it, isn't it?