***THIS JUST IN****

Before we start this week, I'd just like to officially place the Emmy voters On Notice, before Stephen Colbert has a chance to. For those of you who didn't watch the show or read about it yet, Colbert lost the Best Performance in a Comedy, Variety or Musical Emmy to Barry Manilow.

Barry. Manilow.

I know I'm going to hear from a truckload of you Manilow fans out there, and I truly do think he's a heckuva guy with an amazing body of work, but there's simply no one on the tube today who's even in the same league as Colbert, with his bombastic, over-the-top parody of pretty much every talking head on cable news.

I blame Bill O'Reilly.

And now, back to your regularly scheduled column.

Apparently, at some point during the last three weeks the animal kingdom has gone completely barking mad.

Ooh, sorry about the pun, there. No, not really.

At any rate, I've noticed this weirdness in my own back yard. Outside my office here in the sprawling suburban Weird Chronicles complex, I have a fully tricked out critter feeding station, complete with two bird feeders, a thistle-seed finch feeder, two birdbaths (one mounted on a tree for the squirrels) and a "critter food" dish. With the habitat destruction in the neighborhood of late caused by rampant subdivision development, I've gotten a lot of traffic.

Oh, I didn't mention the hummingbird feeder out front, where this morning I watched a male ruby-throated hummingbird chase a bumblebee away. The poor bee had no clue what had befallen it, and retreated at top bumble-speed.

Most remarkable, however, has been the red-headed woodpecker who visits the birdfeeder and critter dish. He's apparently figured out that eating seed out of a feeder is by far easier than whanging your head against a tree in search of insects. No one I've talked to has ever seen such behavior, and several folks have been flatly disbelieving. You know I'd never lie to you, dear readers, don't you? Anyone else ever see this sort of thing?

But let's not confine our examinations to my immediate environs. I have stalkers who do that just fine.

The Maine Monster?

Folks in Turner, Maine, must be suffering the effects of living in the same state as Stephen King. Either that or the long winters have led to a bit of frostbite on the ol' cerebellum.

Recently, a dead animal was found in a field near town, and immediately the rumors began to fly that this was the "monster" that had been terrorizing the area for the past 15 years with glowing eyes and an eerie, ululating cry that echoed through the night. All manner of deviltry had been ascribed to the creature, from the deaths of neighborhood pets to the popularity of Geraldo Rivera. (Of course it was quickly learned that Rivera's popularity was the direct result of a pact with Satan, not the Turner monster.)

There's just one tiny problem. The "Monster" is quite obviously a dead dog, one that seems to have been, erm, ripening for a while. I'd love to show you a picture, but our staff photographer lost his lunch when he got within sniffing distance. You can Google it easily enough *wink*. Anyone who's taken a long drive on a rural road in Texas has seen several Turner Monsters, especially during mating season.

This is not to say there aren't any monsters in Maine. I'd tell you about the ones I have knowledge of, but Mr. King's lawyers have informed me that would be legally actionable, as he's already got three books, a screenplay, two novellas and a video game written about them.

Drumsticks, Anyone?

The residents of Naperville, Ill., have a bit of a feathered problem. Recently, a wild turkey showed up in the middle of town, blocking traffic at a major intersection. The local authorities shooed it away, but the avian interloper returned four times.

One local resident has a persistent colony of the wild birds sitting in his trees, to the extent that deliverymen have been afraid to approach his door for fear of being attacked. And, of course, the giant birds leave giant-sized bird droppings. You think having a seagull poop on your head is gross? Try getting hit with a fried egg-sized splatter of poo.

Being an outdoor cook of some repute, I would like to offer a solution to this problem to the residents of Naperville. It involves a large pot, a gallon of peanut oil, some Cajun spices and a propane stove.

Cook the problem for three and a half minutes per pound. Serve warm.

Iguana Hold Your Hand

The residents of Lee County, Fla., are living through a B movie -- one of those where the lizards rise up and take over the world. They are being overrun by iguanas, which currently outnumber the residents of local community Gasparilla Island 10 to 1.

Iguanas are generally peaceable critters, given to munching bugs and sunbathing. They can give one heck of a tail whip if provoked, but I think living in such close proximity to Key West has given them a Buffett sort of mellowness.

My advice to the residents of Gasparilla Island? Lay in some extra crickets and welcome your scaly brethren. That way, when the aliens invade, you can play dumb and let them think the lizards are the dominant species.

Or you can turn on some Wall of Voodoo and let Stan Ridgway sing "Mexican Radio" a few dozen times. If that doesn't have them swimming for Cuba, nothing will.

Got a question? Comment? Spare bucket of money? Drop me a line, anytime!