Originally Posted: 2005-05-25 12:29am
An insane bird lives outside my window - w4m
I want to kill it. I want to take it by the neck and squeeze the life's blood out of it drip by friggin drip. I want some bad, bad man to move next door and hear it and take his pistol, still warm from the night before, and blow it's chirpy little beak off. I want Charleton Heston to be my new neighbor (but I bet he won't because the rent is only $650 per month and he can probably afford more) and get really miffed 'cause he can't sleep 'till noon and then I want him to launch out of bed in his extra long boxers (rumors in Hollywood would indicate he needs the added fabric)and grab his rifle (which was resting on the pillow next to his) and blast my annoying feathered friend right off of his perenial perch.
And, boy oh boy, am I lamenting last spring when IT was single. Alone. Without friends. No other birdies to frolick with. God only knows what we don't appreciate 'till it's long gone. I knew, then, he was on his way to crazy. Or, at the very least, suffering from some sort of winged Turet's Syndrome. Very vocal for a stint and then nothing for hours on end. That was bad enough. After a "session" I would sit and listen and anticipate the next unpredictable bout. Minutes, hours, even whole days would pass by with my ears ready for the interruption. I recall friends bringing me food and the oft needed sundries because I didn't want to leave my abode and miss another chance to get annoyed. Something about justified angst. I can't really tell if the flight worthy little beast has brought his loud family back to roost or if they're his newfound drinking buddies (reference to a bird fountain or Cheers, whichever floats your boat). So, anyway, an insane bird lives outside my window. Think I'm projecting?
Single, sexy, and superfluous. Come fly with me, come fly come fly away....