  This is an email I recieved from my friend Naomi today and I thought it was way too funny not to share.
So, as part of my job I am supposed to give workshops on duck banding. Now to me this doesn’t sound too bad. I mean ducks are so cute and the idea of dressing them up in pretty little bracelets is adorable so I take my boss’s suggestion to get some experience and I get in touch with the local duck banding guy.
I ring up the number and the gruff old guy tells me to show up at 6 am sharp. “If I’m early I’ll wait for you, but if you’re not there by 6 I’ll band the ducks and leave”. He says this like he already expects me not to show. Like it is some unavoidable trend of all women. I make a note to self – Note to self: Don’t be late. 5:30 am. Shit it’s early. But I’m not going to be late. I throw on my rain slicker and some rubbers (I actually didn’t wear rubber boots, I just like saying rubbers) and some clothes obviously (clothes first, then rain suit, then rubbers) and am at the marsh at 5:55. Damn I’m good. But where is the gruff old man? His truck is there, but no sign of him. Wait, what’s that noise.
Oh, here he comes in a canoe. In a canoe with a box full of ducks. Aaah. Cute little duckies! He steps up on shore, ducks and all, and gets right into the duck banding explanation. “You grab the duck around the wings so it can’t fly away on you” he explains. “ Then you turn it upside down and hold it between your knees. Check it’s wings for blood feathers to see if it is this year’s duck, then determine the sex”. Um….excuse me....did I hear right? I’m supposed to be able to determine it’s sex? Do ducks have dicks?
I’m very confused. “Just pull back the tail feathers and take a look. This is called the Quackial exam”. Did he just say Quackial? Ha! Too funny! I'm laughing in my head, but I have a heavy feeling of dread in my heart. So I find myself sitting on a bucket with an upside down duck between my legs, tail feathers pulled back looking for a penis.
Is this really happening to me? Am I really checking out a duck butt? Really? As it turns out I am. I even find a penis. Wow! I am so proud of myself. I really am. “It’s a male” I cry, accidentally shuffling my legs in excitement and dropping the poor sexually assaulted bird on its head. “Oh, crap! I’m sorry sir I’ll get it” So now, I’m running in circles chasing this stupid duck which quacking ridiculously and is obviously really pissed off.
I'm sure it thinking in it's little brain "Oh ya? I'd like to goose you! " (Ha, ha! Get it? Duck butt, duck butt, goose! ) And I’m also sure gruff old man thinks I’m a just a stupid girl, but do I really care at this point? No. No I don’t. “Hum”, he says. I guess we’ll have to work on that. N 
