Friday, November 27, 2009

Our Freaking Feathered Friends.

Warning- Multitude of references to bird poo. No, I'm not kidding. I wish I was. I so dearly wish I was.

Hey.

I'm back from a drive around the beach.
Nice drive, nice drive.


I ate some ice-cream.
Nice ice-cream, nice ice-cream.


What? You think I'm being boring? You think that I'm not being my usual hilarious, genius self? *ahem*

YOU THINK RIGHT, MORON.


COZ YA KNOW WHY?


Some stupid pigeon/crow/evil bird decided it had too much of food to eat last night, and gratefully used my very expensive shoes as a place of excretion.


The left shoe, to be precise.


Cheeeeeeeeeeeee.


Birds, I feel, have radars in their little brains. Sort of like- "ALERT. ALERT. Girl has just stepped out of the house after a nice shower. Engage missile."


Stupid birds.


Let's make a pact, okay? Let's train birds.


No, really. Not joking.


Let's TRAIN those freaking poo-zookas into knowing exactly where and when to let out their S-Bombs. No, not the cuss words. An actual S-Bomb. O.o

I'm going to write a letter to our state government saying that we all want bathrooms for birds. Nice colorful toilets with therapeutic oils that instigate the dropping of bird S-Bombs.

What say you? They may laugh?


So what.


Because when a pigeon decides to drop an S-Bomb on the Chief Minister, only I shall be having the last laugh.


& the pigeon, though that is entirely besides the point.



A classic example

3 comments:

Chavie said...

hahaha this is classic! :D sorry about the shoe though! :)

She Who Eats Cookies said...

HAHAHAHAHAHA *points and laughs*
I hope it was the Converse. I'm jealous of those. wtm

Anonymouse said...

No, it wasn't the converse.
Which one, btw? I have SOH MANY KEWL ONES.
It was some old pair of Reebok shoes, so everything is A-OKAY.

THANK YOU. :D