Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Dear Mockingbird

You are the Guy Fieri of birds.  You scream outside my window all night long, and you don't even scream in your own voice. You spend all your time trying to imitate something you are not.  If you were to get some awful frosted tips, slap on some sweatbands, and interject some stupid made up words like "Flabberty BOOMTASTIC" between pretending to sound like a robin and screeching like Bobcat Goldthwait passing a kidney stone, TGI Fridays might have you try to hock some Buffalo Chicken Poppers.

Why don't you ever sleep?  That's what I want to do, and you make it so very hard.  The only other thing I know that sits in the dark and sings to itself is Fred Durst.  Do you want to be Fred Durst?  Even Fred Durst does not want to be Fred Durst.  To make it worse, if you aren't outside my window all night, you are standing on the top of my chimney all day.  My chair is right next to the fireplace, and the chimney is generally just a big megaphone to channel the awfulness that is you.

It got so bad I went on the internet to try to find out how to get rid of you peacefully.  There are no viable options for that, so I looked for more drastic measure.  I spent all afternoon reading what I thought was a how-to book for dispatching your annoying ass, but it turned out it was just some beloved book about racism and the nobility of man.  I did almost hit you with the book though, but I missed and now I have a book stuck on my roof.  

Please enjoy the bowl of uncooked rice, alka seltzer, and pop rocks I left for you on the deck.  I have also filled up the bird bath with some nice cold water that was blessed by an old priest and a young priest.  Hopefully it makes you burst into flames.

3 comments:

  1. If that works, would you please get rid of this cardinal that has been banging into my windows for two days, nonstop. For a while his girlfriend watched him do it. Now he's on his own. My dog has even lost interest! The online remedies are not working. I don't exactly want him to burst into flames, but...

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    1. A week or so after I posted this last June, the mockingbird found a mate or whatever it did that made it shut up. Now it, or a new one, is back.

      It has to be bad when the dog doesn't even care anymore. My only thought is that when in doubt, fire is the only thing guaranteed to purify evil.

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  2. Pretend it is like the Cuckoo clock, after a while you never hear it. :-)

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