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Ever since last night I’ve been getting a lot of questions about my brass fingernails. First of all. NO, they are not prosthesis. i have them for a specific reason.

Here’s what they look like:

another view 

HERE’s is the reason:

I bite my nails all the time. constantly, idly, without thinking.

If you’re like me, and love giving back scratches, then having no nails is a problem:

Here’s how chose to fix this problem:

Shoot bullet, collect casing.

cut bullet.

The bullets have a taper inside. we will want the broader side of the taper to be outward on our nails, and the thinner side against the rear of the nail so there is no jutting up of material when they are glued on. Here’s what that taper looks like, one cylinder is flipped over to show how thick it is at the base:

clip, bend, and trim into a nail shape:

sand for a fine (BUT NOT CUTTING SHARP) edge on the front and smooth edges.

Glue with Krazy glue, it’s the best.

it’ll dry quick. NOW TRY BACK SCRATCHES. LOOK AT THIS DIFFERENCE.

Amazing. the nails will stay on for about a week at a time before working themselves loose, when that happens just scrape the glue off and reapply.

Unless you happen to have reached into the closet and snagged it on your shelves and broke the nail off on your pinky cuz holy god that hurt. reapply anyways.

Also these work as screwdrivers, knives and various other multi-tools at the tip of your finger, so that’s pretty rad. I don’t know how odd i should feel about having done this, but i must say; it’s handy as hell and really fun to have nails again.

Little Miss Doll - Submitted by Anonymous

teachers:

use tools

Can be taught to speak (like parrots)

Have huge brains for birds

like seriously their brain-to-body size ratio is equal to that of a chimpanzee

They vocalize anger, sadness, or happiness in response to things

they are scary smart at solving puzzles

some crows stay with their mates until one of them dies

they can remember faces

SIDENOTE HERE BECAUSE HOLY SHIT.  They did an experiment where these guys wore masks and some of them fucked with crows.  Pretty soon the crows recognized the masks = douchebag.  But the nice guys with masks they left alone.  THEN, OH WE’RE NOT DONE, NO SIR crows that WEREN’T EVEN IN THE EXPERIMENT AND NEVER SAW THE MASK BEFORE knew about mask-dudes and attacked them on sight.  THEY PASSED ON THE FUCKING INFORMATION TO THEIR CROW BUDDIES.

They remember places where crows were killed by farmers and change their migration patterns.

Every day, I would watch Buck from my window until one day I opened it and started talking to him. He was small and gangly and he couldn’t caw right. His feathers were all over the place and I felt a kinship. So I made a deal with him. I told him that if he could do it, if he could fly, then I could find the strength to get up. Well… near the end of the season, after talking with him every day, I finally saw him get out of the nest. He went to the edge of his branch, braced himself, and jumped… and just before he hit the ground, he soared back up into the sky. I cheered harder than I ever had before.

That winter, Buck left the area. I was crestfallen. I felt like I’d lost a friend. But I was so damn proud of him. 

Cut to the next spring? I’m walking up the driveway one day when suddenly I hear a sound… a broken caw. I look up, and Buck is sitting in a tree above my head. He stared at me and puffed his feathers, then hopped down in front of me and cawed again. I was so damn thrilled, and I told him how proud I was of him. He ruffled his feathers and then soared off into his old tree. 

That summer? I heard two broken caws. One from Buck… and one from his chick.

i tried to get close and take a better look and one of them dived super low and tried to attack me. so i went back in the house and chopped some sliced raw meat and tossed it at him from a distance.

a few more times later, very soon after, they could tell i was trying to help, and did not attack me. i was “allowed” to walk up close and pick him up, he couldn’t drink water properly so i had to dip my finger in a bowl and stick it in his mouth.

i did this few times a day and it went on for about a week before he disappeared, i thought he recovered and left, but he came back the next day and lands on me, and i see him around the block quite often, and he would come sit on my shoulder for a few minutes and then fly away again. i feel like i’ve adopted a son.

As a side note, I volunteered at a rehab (Hope for Wildlife), where they were rehabbing a crow with a broken wing–who was named Russell Crow. He kept pulling his bandage off so a sleeve was cut off some old clothing and put on him like a little sweater.