Chicken of Pigeons
Earlier today a pigeon flew into my internet cafe and bashed itself again the window while I screamed and covered my head. Everyone laughed at me. I'm an animal-lover, but having a molting Tenderloin pigeon graze my face is like sucking on an eyedropper full of the ebola virus. My latte had little bugs in it when I returned to the table. About an hour later, 2 homeless men got into a fight and left a trail of saliva against my window. They made amends and went away, but the saliva remains here at eye level. Chucky was a cursed doll, Christine was a cursed car and I have a cursed window seat. What are the odds?
Labels: christine, chucky, coffeeshop, ebola, Gavin Newsom, pigeons, redwoods, SF, tenderloin
1 Comments:
You've got to read 'Pigeons' by Andrew Blechman (yes, his last name is Blechman).
It will forever change the way you look at pigeons. Some people covet them as racing phenomenons and others call them flying rats.
You can borrow my copy.
Check it: http://www.andrewblechman.com/pigeons/index.html
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