A Million Dollar Beak

Whitestrip or pregnancy test?

After years of debate, I have given in to a life-changing product in hopes to fly from my modest, middle class status to a slightly less modest, middle class status. I bought a pack of Crest Whitestrips to add some new shine to my beak.

Many of my hen friends have used Whitestrips and have had successful results. I've hemmed and hawed - is it worth the $20? Do I have $20? Will it work? Am I giving in to a superficial society? Is it a tax write off? Where are my keys? But rooming with Sasha Hen, who uses them and has an especially white beak, I went for it. And if I had any problems, she could help me.

Back on the Icy Road

Hidalgo's Statue of Liberty

The hens are back on the ice. We won't be touring any of Europe or Mars, but we will be taking our show to many of America's cultural hot spots, such as Tupelo, Mississippi and Hidalgo, Texas. We just don't have the time for New York or L.A.

During last year's European tour, we had to adapt to European culture and coups. We learned some of the native language - British English - and we squished our feathers and seeds into the "cozy" confines built for hens a foot shorter than ourselves. We will now be touring North America, and although we just began the rehearsals, we are readapting to American life. Here are a few things these hens will need to get used to again.

A Farewell to Luxury

Last week, I bid farewell to an old, loyal friend. No one died, and I didn't defriend him from Facebook over too many political comments. I sold him because I met someone better.

refusing to accept his real age

I sold my first and only car, known by all friends as The Luxury Sedan. It got its fancy name fittingly from its many luxurious features, including manual, roll-up windows and two doors for five seats. The Luxury Sedan was just too luxurious to tolerate electric locks, cruise control or a tachometer.

When I got the car at age 16, I always imagined being the only owner, driving it until it drove no more. But when my grandma recently moved to Florida, she decided not to drive anymore and offered me her car if I'd sell my old friend and give her the money. At first I refused. How could I sell my old, loyal friend for a younger, fancier friend? No way.

Hashtag Olympics

No, Mitt Romney! No!

The Olympics are happening as we speak. Every two years we see the world's best athletes in hot and cold sports fly onto our radars and make us yell at the TV with national pride. With the presidential election just around the corner, I'm also yelling at the political ads in between events with national disgust. There's a lot of yelling.

Maybe it's because I went through a journalism and media studies program. Maybe it's because I'm in between work and spend idle summer days flapping around the coup. Maybe it's because of the onslaught of social media adding to the coverage. And maybe it's all three plus low blood sugar, but the commentary and coverage of the events is driving me mad. More yelling!