& by that disgusting little description I mean not the 1963 Alfred Hitchcock thriller - nope, that would bring much joy - I angrily speak of these abominable little shits that sit somewhere in the vicinity of my bedroom window, where each & every morning circa 4am, they open their pompous little beaks & proceed to squeak & squawk until my bankrupt little faculties just can't reason time/space/mathematics/sex/sleep/sanity anymore. (I've lost my mind)
you breeding, chirping, beeping, talking, cunning, worthless, tweeting little bastards. shut your beaks before I stomp them American History X style, - animal rights activist wanker people - listen to me - come round my flat tomorrow, 3ish (that's am) - bring your damn signs - bring your bottled water/granola - & try to stop my double barrel love machine - because I will exact my revenge! -
an award telling & true - when bloody feathers twirl to the ground & find their final resting place, so I'll return to a sleep somber &delightful - to awake rested with not a hint of regret - the blood tasted will be beautiful & flowing - a sweet reminder of nature's delicious sap - I WILL DRINK YOUR BLOOD!!!!
1 comment:
I hate birds too. But apparently you hate them even more...
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