Blackwolf the Dragonmaster's Diary of Magecraft

Being a Chronicle of the Inner Secrets of, and Spells of Magick as Wielded by, the Philosopher of the Internet and Unofficial Sorcerer-in-Residence of the City of New York

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Location: New York, New York, United States

As New York's Unofficial Wizard, my mission is to encourage the Mortals of Manhattan to imagine responsibly!

Thursday, April 17, 2008

A Pigeon in my Office!

By Merlin's beard, I can see I shall be talking about this for some time to come! I'd best tell the tale now, before I completely lose it altogether:

This past Wednesday was not the normal, in-control Wednesday your Dragonmaster prefers. Long point short, just as I'm about to get going to do my usual Bethesda Fountain routine, I find a pigeon in my apartment --- in my office, no less! I know not how the feathery little vermin managed to flutter into my abode, but one can presume that he made the journey whilst I was fast asleep! This, dear children, is what happens to you when you are in the throes of two days' worth of back-to-back busking! Fortunately, I was wise enough to get the little birdie out of my office using my trusty Wizard's staff!

Well, frankly, despite getting a few decent photo ops together, I was not really able to properly focus mine energies. No self-respecting Wizard should be denied that ability. And anyway, I don't like it when things get out of control. It only ends up causing me to become one hopping-mad Mage. A few sensible hellos from the fans, a few rude remarks from several smart-mouth'd silly people --- and to top the whole bloomin' mess off, a high-school band from Toronto, playing a 45-minute set of horribly-arranged versions of the greatest pop, rock and disco standards from the 70s, 80s and early 90s! Aargh!

One thing's for sure, Mortals: I have now discovered to my satisfaction that one should never allow a pigeon in one's office. You never know if you might have to clean up the icky pigeon poop the foul feathered fiend would dare leave behind. Besides, there's only one person properly authorized to do any kind of pooping 'pon yours truly. That, of course, would be ol' Poopstar, a/k/a Triumph, the Insult Comic Dog. This being the fresh hound's 10th Birthday, I would ask you to post your greetings (nicely, please!) over at; I'm sure Triumph's superiors at Late Night w/Conan O'Brien will deal with them accordingly.

Master Blackwolf