Wednesday, 25 May 2011

Evil bastard death bird is killing my buzz

So I've had my two first half-days back at work. 

And I guess I didn't die, or hide under the desk or something (which only a few weeks ago was a very realistic and rational possibility), so that's a plus.

The first day was exhausting.  So I napped all afternoon when I got home.  But then I cut the grass in the evening, so it wasn't a total fail.

This morning I could barely get up, but eventually managed to actually leave the house and do some work.  Mind you, it was gentle work that's not really worth the money I make, but work nonetheless.  And I haven't needed a nap yet this afternoon, which I think is a good sign.  And I even ate lunch today!  Hello, appetite.  Nice to see you again, asshole.

Despite all that, I keep getting a bad omen. 


See that one weird branch sticking out the side?

And remember the effing crows?  Aka Death birds?


Well, there is one motherfucker who just won't lay off.

Evil bastards.



Fucker is haunting me.  Taunting me. 

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary...  And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming...

Death Bird: "Ha, ha.  You're a loser.  You spend all your time sitting in your living room with your tv in front of your face and your computer on your lap."

Me: "No!  Be gone, death bird!"

Death Bird: "If you're gonna sit and stare out your living room window all day, I'm going to sit here and remind you of DEATH."

Me: "Well, that sounds positively marvelous.  ...NOT.  Shew, Death Bird!  Leave me be, I implore!"

Death Bird: "Never!"

Me:  "And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor / Shall be lifted -nevermore."

Ok, so I was less poetic than that, and the crow was less articulate in general, but you get the idea. 




_

12 comments:

  1. What is wrong with that bastard? You were feeling better and he's just being an asshole. You need to sit in your living room for awhile...I'm guessing (based on some experience) that it feels safe there. So he needs to leave you the hell alone and let you do what you need to do right now.

    Do I need to come all the way up there and get him?

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  2. Right? He makes my safe place very frightening. I wouldn't mind so much if he was cute and pink (haha) but he's NASTY!

    However, there was a hummingbird - that's right, A HUMMINGBIRD - outside my living room window yesterday, so it's not *all* bad.

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  3. Thank you for reminding me of the existence of Tiny Toons! I'm now going to spend the next 5 hours seeking out videos on YouTube.

    Also, I'm glad to see your going back to work! Hope that as time passes, things continue to get easier.

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  4. We're tiny! We're toony! We're all a little loony! And in this cartoony, we're invading your tv! LOL! I LOVED Tiny Tooes!

    Thanks Pal.

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  5. I had all this wisdom. screw it. Buy a rifle shoot the bird. (If this is illegal I didn't mean it)

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  6. I hate fucking birds. Really. Especially pigeons. Birds can see right into your soul with their beady little black bird eyes and cast a curse upon you. DO NOT MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH THE BIRD.

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  7. We have evil birds around my neighborhood. Whenever I take my daughter to the playground down the street, I swear these fuckers call out in bird language "die bitch, die". The squawking brings over more of their bird friends. One even pooped on my little girl's stroller. Birds are assholes.

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  8. LACE - I was thinking of busting a cap in the fucker. Good idea!

    Handflapper - Agreed. Cah-reep-y.

    Elle - OMG! You should stop going to that park. Immediately.

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  9. I hate nature.

    Will there be Shitonary tomorrow????

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  10. Hmmm... shitionary? I don't think so, 'cause I have company at my house. I'll save up a good one for next time though :)

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  11. Throw a basketball at it but be careful the basketball doesn't get in caught in the tree like my son's did when my daughter threw it up there trying to dislodge her beach ball which would undoubtedly cause the crow to taunt you even more. On second thought, throw a rock at it.

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