Out of the Ordinary

Ordinarily, I'd be posting a Sunday Sermon here, but today is no ordinary Sunday. Raksha is in town! Tapping away at the papal iBook just doesn't seem like a good use of my time...

Ordinarily, I'd be cleaning and doing laundry to get ready for another week at work on a Sunday, but I'm trying to recover from two days of partying to celebrate Big Gay Jim's birthday. Go to his blog and wish him a happy day!

Ordinarily, my house is very quiet at 7:30 on a Sunday, but the normally silent-until-uncovered Ajax decided that 7:00 AM this morning was a good time to start playing with one of his toys - naturally it was one with a big bell on it.

Ordinarily, I avoid purity tests. They frequently have hundreds of questions, and any result I post will seem too pure - I am His Sinfulness the Black Pope, after all. But this one, courtesy of Mandyland, is very brief and seems to accurately convey the state of my withered and blackened heart.

You Are 12% Pure

You've been a very bad girl or boy...
And you probably enjoyed every minute of it.

(By the way - the battery in the papal iBook was not part of the recall. Thanks and a minor beatification to those who notified me about it.)

Ajax the Destroyer

Remember whiffle balls? These inbred cousins of the baseball are no longer just for indoor PE when the weather is terrible. By tying bits of wood, plastic, and leather through the holes, several enterprising companies have turned these tough plastic spheres into bird toys as well. Below we see the "Candy Disco Ball" by Mardi Gras Bird Toys...

Ajax has had his in his cage for about a week...

UPDATE: The whiffle ball toy shown above was completely severed from its chain and chewed down to pieces no larger than quarters by the time I returned from work the day after this picture was taken..

His chewing is amazing. The next three pictures show his handiwork on solid wooden blocks.

Although I do not have photographic proof, I can also testify that Ajax has broken several of the chains from which his toys hang. These are 2.5-3.0mm, welded stainless steel chains. He breaks them without using any tools or bracing them on the cage or playpen for leverage - he just bites through them.

Fear the beak.

Thanks the gods he doesn't bite anymore...


So this 400th post has loomed over me for weeks now. Worrying about it, wondering what it should be, and answering emails from Flocksters who want to know when it's going up has dominated my free time. There is actually a raw spot on my right leg where it has been humping me everytime I sit down at the papal iBook. I had grand delusions that it was to be the start of a new chapter in the Ministry.

The problem is that so much has changed in the last few weeks that the post I had originally decided on - an exhaustive retrospective, reenacting the important works of the tentacle pr0n canon starring several of your favorite BCPs - no longer seems relevant. Plus, the whole project was way over budget... Raksha wanted her own trailer, Tessa would only agree to spanking scenes, NerdyGirl wanted her octopoid co-stars to make their rope work more tidy, and Mandy kept insisting that their tentacles be pink... At any rate, that idea has been scrapped, and instead I am compelled to bore you with another post about changes.

The biggest change for me has been my new address. My previous home, Flock Hall, although still nominally occupied, is a tattered shell of its former self. Britt moved out months ago. Tessa and Mark returned from Nevada briefly to fetch their worldly possessions, and left again. Almost all of my belongings have been moved to the new Black Vatican, and I will have the last little bit moved by the time you read this. Only Ben remains, and he is in the process of sorting and packing for his move as well. Walking the ghostly halls of my old demesne feels like putting a beloved animal companion to sleep; "Rest now, old friend. Just close your eyes, and let go."

Of course, I don't want Flock Hall to die. I wish it could somehow just...expand. If the house - and life - could just open up a bit, and give each of us a little more space, a little more money, and a little more time for each other, we could go on living as a slightly dysfuntional little commune, in the dusty home we made together. But the dimensions of the old house by the tracks remain fixed, and to a certain extent, so are the life choices we've each made.

Don't get me wrong - I like my new house very much. It's got hardwood floors, nice landscaping outside, and a diligent landlord who keeps everything shipshape. Ajax and I have more room than we know what to do with, and we both like that it has numerous sunny windows and quiet neighbors - but a lot has to happen there before it can be called a home.

From the street

Dining Hall

Living Room (note the built-in shrine space for my altar to Speed Racer, blessed be His shiny helmet...)

Kitchen, left and right views

You may wonder why there is no photo of the Black Pope's bedroom. Viewing the bed chambers of His Sinfulness is, of course, reserved for those BCPs who have shown the proper faithfulness, and a willingness to receive the Sable Pontiff's "special blessing." Rumors that you have to be baptized in the blood of unchristened babies and wear special underwear to enter are completely false, but you do have to contend with Raksha, who is said to be rabid, and willing to "cut a bitch" who comes near her man.

In the end, this post is just like any other found here, and I apologize to my regular readers for the delay. I promise that when the next posting milestone arrives, I will make sure the 500th post humps someone elses leg...