Pigeon Pie

So, there is nothing that I hate more in the world than birds. And lesbians.

But birds.

Birds in general. Ducks and geese and chickens and doves and parrots and pigeons. Fucking pigeons.

 

 I eat your liver



So I don’t know where my fear of birds came from. I really don’t. But I do know that every time a bird of any kind comes close, my eyes start to water and my ears get warm and if I don’t carefully control myself, my fight or flight thing will kick in and I’ll just run away. I generally can’t even walk close to birds. Those pigeons that aren’t scared of you that waddle so close…. I walk circles around them. They have short little legs. That freaks me out too.

Girlfriend seems to thoroughly enjoy calling the flock of geese over when we go to Emmarentia dam. They come at you thinking you’ve got food and then you’re all “Nah sorry she was kidding” and they’re all “Hissssssssss”

It’s scary shit man.

Bird story 1: 

When I was in school, a teacher came up to me with this little yellow bird in her hand saying that it’s a baby and it can’t fly, and I must please take it to the nursery school next door and put it there (so the kids could catch it and try to stick it up their noses or into their backpacks)

She had it in her 2 hands, and just its head stuck out and I thought - ‘OMGGGGG how cute ok sure I’ll take it!!’

Once I had that fucker in my hands, he was like ‘WAAAH!!! I trick you. I’m actually a frustrated male bird whose tail got bitten off by a cat and that’s why I can’t fly and I am now going to put a hundred holes in your hand’

 So here I am holding this thing with both hands, and it’s got me. It managed to grip the skin between my index finger and my thumb. My first instinct wasn’t to let go, but instead to simply squeeze the thing until its head popped off. I did exactly that.

I’m kidding.

I let it go, and it flew onto the counter at reception. When they told me to catch it, I told them to get fucked. That thing is a trained little ninja assassin. He knows my weaknesses. I will not be the victim again.

Bird story 2:

 After an evening out with friends on Sunday, I took the looong drive home. Long isn’t an exaggeration. There’s even a rest stop on the way to my house. Like those old abandoned ones in the field with the wooden long drops and the dodgy petrol attendants who cut you up and put your parts into bottles. Ok except this is an Engen with a Wimpy and a Woolies and it’s next to the road so it’s nothing like those old abandoned ones in the field. It is, however, far away from civilization.

So I was about to burst in my car and reluctantly pulled over at the Engen to use the bathroom.

I looked through my windscreen, and there he was.

Standing tall, arrogance beaming off of him like the light that some people think shines outa their assholes. His cocky little attitude and short stumpy legs in the middle of where I had to be, as if he knew that I would have to walk right past him to get to where I was going, and that he’d make my life hell by being where he was.

I got out of my car, *cowboy music playing in background* and took 2 small, tiny steps and reached for my pocket.

This is what I was looking at: 

 



Asshole rooster

As you can tell, I stood behind the wall and used as much of my zoom function as possible. This thing was guarding the door, I’m sure. For fear of having my limbs ripped off and my eyes savagely pecked out, I walked ALL the way around to the other side of the door and ran into the store. I wasn’t even shy about it. I kept saying “fucking chicken” out loud as I was walking around it, not taking my eyes off of it until those sliding doors closed.

I didn’t leave the store. I nonchalantly looked through the window every so often, as if I was checking on my car. I waited several minutes until I saw him cross the road (haaaahaha, get it? Why’d the chicken cross the r.... Okay yeah) and I made a break for my car.

Not a fan man. I am just not a fan.

Think, bitch, think!!!

So while discussing life and all its bullshit under a tree with a friend at a camping trip, we have come up with an analogy to describe our friends’ way of thinking.

We’ve used lines. I’m excited about this because I get to draw pictures.

I will try to illustrate how each ‘thinker’ gets from point A to point B. I know I can identify with a few of these.

1. OMG – Someone might see this.

So this is the paranoid thinker. The person who would rather take a completely different route rather than face some sort of a risk.





2. I can’t stop, I can’t stop.

This is the spiral thinker. The person who sees what’s happening, but just keeps doing it anyway. Kinda like when you take a big bite of a really hot roasted potato. You know it’s burning a small hole into your mouth but like a puppy you carry on, because it’s too late to turn back or spit that shit out. Plus it tastes good, even though it burns.

3. Let’s go this way, ohh look a new line. Let’s make it purple

Ahaaa. The creative thinkers. Those people who talk about purple unicorns and coloured acorns. Those people who don’t really know what line they’re on, but they’ll keep changing colour and direction as and when they need to. They get there eventually, that’s all that matters.

4. There must be another line, a smarter line.

The process-driven thinkers. There must be a quicker way. Have I thought about all the possible lines? What’s gonna happen if this line fucks out and starts to become a dotted line?? Heaven forbid I’m on a dotted line. How do we get the best out of this line? These people are tiring. Sometimes I am one of these people. I make myself tired. I wish I could skip the line completely and float to point B on a bubble.

5. Your line looks great!!!

Here are the line jumpers. Those people who don’t really have a solid opinion when it comes to anything. They jump on whatever line seems best. Whatever line everyone else is on at the time.

6. There are a million other lines here.

The over-analyzers. The people who read too much into everything. The over-thinkers. These people are draining. Nothing is simple for them. They see a hundred different lines, where we would see only 2. Perhaps these are the smarter, more experienced thinkers. Those who know every possible outcome. Those who have been there and done that and have several different scars to show for it.

7. Fuck your lines, I’m drawing my own.

The rebels. Those who will make a point of drawing their own lines, just because they can. The thinkers who will get to point B in their own time, in their own way.

8. The reckless.

They don’t care what happens between point A and  point B.They go full speed around the corners and don’t care if the road ends there.

9. Tomorrow? Future? What?

They think about what they need right.now.and.nothing.else.matters. There is no tomorrow in their plans.

10. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

And then..... There are those who just don’t think at all.