I sympathize with Tippi Hedren
I spent the evening with some friends last night over at their place. We had a wild and crazy night of Scrabble. I know what you’re thinking. I should slow down this fast paced insane life I lead because it’s going to kill me someday. Scrabble is the gateway drug of board games. If I’m not careful, I could find myself playing Yahtzee next week.
These friends of ours have a bird of some sort. I’m only familiar with one type of bird, and that’s the one that I fly freely to other drivers along the roads here in South Carolina. So I couldn’t tell you if it’s a parakeet or a parrot or a dodo. I know it’s green and yellow.
I was attempting to help our friends with their iPod when their bird landed on my right shoulder.
Now this is probably a good place to tell you that I’m not a fan of birds. They find great pleasure in squirting their liquid shit all over my car all the time and I don’t much appreciate it. You don’t see me climbing trees and taking a shit in their nests, so I don’t understand why they can’t work with me. But I digress…
So as I was saying: This bird lands on my right shoulder. And it’s huge*. It’s a beast, a real monster. Ginormous. In fact, looking back, it wasn’t even a bird. It was a Pterodactyl. A BIG Pterodactyl. With fangs and everything.
I could see it out of the corner of my eye. And it could see me. I froze, because that’s what wimpy creatures do in the wild before they realize their imminent death by a predator.
Then this bird starts walking closer to my head and neck. And then I got really scared because now I have this gargantuan beast heading for my throat. Oh my god, I thought, it’s a vampire, too!
Then, of course, the vicious beast attacked me. It tried to eat my face off. My life flashed before my eyes when I felt the bird’s fangs sink into my lower lip. All twelve of them (fangs, not lips). And after the fangs came the searing pain of the rest of its razor-sharp teeth.
Hannibal the bird then flew off to eat half my jaw with some fava beans and chianiti. It laughed to itself and proceeded with a triumphant and sinister squawk. It figured me for dead, but I managed to escape the pirhana pigeon with my life intact.
I still hate birds.
It’s really the size of a mouse. But a big mouse. Say what you will, but you would have been mortified, too. But it really did bite my lower lip. Fucker.
February 3rd, 2006 at 8:13 pm
This is why you need to be more like your little brothers. Buy a pellot gun or even a BB gun whatever. Then you go in the back yard and shot everything thing in site. Everything from the neighbors dog, BIRDS, squirrels, kids playing….anything that dares to get in the crosshairs. No birds has ever shit on my truck nor have i ever been bitten. I havent seen or heard a bird fly over the house on Hilty in years. I have killed so many birds and squirrels that everytime i see one they run off into the distance saying to themselves “thats the crazy kid that will shoot us, our cousin from across town warned me about him.” I am known all over the world….if the they had a most wanted list i would be number one….posted as armed and dangerous.
I guess not killing the bird was a wise decison seeing how it was your friends bird but that just makes you soft. You wouldn’t think twice about killing a cat and they are higher up in the food chain than a bird. But whatever….my advice to you is next time you go over to your friends how take some rat posion and put it in a cracker or something.
polly want a craker?
“bead”
February 3rd, 2006 at 8:41 pm
“craker”?
October 16th, 2006 at 3:18 pm
[...] I hate birds. Hate ‘em. They shit all over everything and they’re all out to get me. Today, yet another one of these avian vermin bastards tried to kill me. Fortunately for me (and undoubtedly for you), I survived its malicious attempt. [...]