So, am i going to get the bird flu now?

So I come home last night totally pissed off cuz I’ve had a humdinger of a day: went to the dentist and found out only AFTER paying $600 out of pocket that he’s out of my network. Well, he’s also out of his MIND cuz he thought I was going to pay $2000 out of pocket for my next visit. AND he doesn’t validate!! Creep. Then I had to deal with my psycho crazy neighbor upstairs who’s been threatening me and leaving harassing, illiterate notes to keep the noise levels down, when he is the f**k face waking me up every morning at 4, 5, and 6 am. a-hole! Did I mention I had a bad day? Well, poor Marisa had her blackberry stolen so we were both ready to kill someone.

As I strolled out to the living room to talk shit on our psycho neighbor, I peer down at our bar stool, and notice a pigeon sitting on it. It took me ten seconds to focus on the image blinking back at me and realize that the nastiest of the bird family made his way into our house and made himself comfortable! I had a rather silent scare, and whispered to marisa that a pigeon was in our house. She lept up from the computer hysterical, screaming and jumping. I started freaking out cuz I thought if we screamed it would peck us to death! Marisa tried to shoo it with her jacket, umm haven’t you seen Birds?! He was going to peck my face off!

Then I realized the little guy was docile and almost adorable. He was too fat to fly. And so sweet. He didn’t want to hurt us, he just wanted to chill in our dope pad. Can’t fault him for that.

So what did I do? What I always do when I need someone to do something for me. Called Scott. He came over in a flash cuz he rocks and lives 3 doors down. And after hysterically laughing at us, he cunningly swiffered the pigeon out of our patio and back into the wild.


I followed Pidgey out, got on my knees and saw that the green band around his ankle said 334. Didn’t know if he was a carrier pigeon like the ones from LOST, or some lost science experiment. (Later I was told he’s a working pigeon!) So I sat there with him for a little bit while he stood around not able to fly, realized he was sweet and with teary eyes, sighed and waved goodbye. I felt bad for the poor thing, and wished our little Pidgey well.

I came back in feeling a little forlorn and said, “Well at least he didn’t shit in our place.”
Except that he did. Marisa pointed to our bar stool, and that asshole crapped all over our chair! F birds.

Don’t ask me why but I don’t hate pigeons. And they’re rather fond of me as well.

Exhibit A