Tuesday, October 25, 2011

6 Solutions To The 3 Problems Posed By The Pigeon Stuck In The Cage That Keeps My Air-Conditioner In Place*



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1) Spend less time being curious and more time getting from Point A to Point B. Don’t worry about whether or not you’re missing out, you’ll always be missing out on something and worrying makes you only miss out on more. Train yourself to be happy even just resting on a power line, that’s where the power you’re looking for lies. Just don’t tell the others. They’ll fight you to the death for the warmest spot, where the most power goes.

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2) Try waiting it out. Eventually you’ll lose some weight and be able to squeeze out on your own. You look like you could stand to lose a few ounces.

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3) Name your daughter Beatrice. I think that’s a nice name for a bird, and nobody alive seems to have it these days, so even if she’s dumb and ugly (like, I hate to say it, most pigeons are) she’ll be special. Just don’t call her Bea – it’ll make it lose its charm and make her seem older, dumber and uglier than she ever might be.

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4) You don’t have to name her anything: I don’t believe that most pigeons have names anyway, the very idea of naming names seems to me to be a distinctly human notion, and since you all have a pretty limited vocabulary to begin with, I might just stick with “coo” – just put a capital on it, make it proper.

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5) Don’t fly there anymore.

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6) Stop listening to him, or just peck his eyes out. I don’t ever let what people say really get to me. Opinions are like assholes, you know: everybody is one. If I were you, I’d just be careful not to look like a weak little flapper, fluttering stupid – like you are now. Own your problems and stop looking at me with that crazy red eye. Stick that breast out proud – make yourself look useful, and not just something that shits on people in the park. Of course, by doing so, certain communities might start calling you “squab” and that certainly has more of a morbidly tasty ring to it, if you catch my drift.

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I’d just find a good spot on a sunny power line and perch your little asshole self there, with Beatrice, or Coo, and keep watch over what you see with your one good eye for the next year or two you have left.

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*Not that I really could understand him, but I could guess.