The guy down the street just busted me scrubbing bird poo off the car out front while he was walking his dog. I said, "Did the birds get you too?" And he said, "Of course. You aren't special."
But he means regular bird poo, which I wouldn't bother scrubbing unless I absolutely couldn't see thru my windshield. (Cars are for driving, not for shining).
No, a few of us were visited by a group of birds who apparently just finished a berry feast across town. These drunken, thoughtless birds gathered in the trees in our backyard and polka-dotted everything with dark red berry diarrhea. So rude.
It's on the patio furniture and all of the concrete, and covering two walls of the white shed. It's unnatural. I'd take a picture, but it's disgusting enough that I'm talking about it.
Recreation of the event. This is not real.
Rain is coming, which would be helpful. But since it's predicted, and I'm wanting it, it won't happen, so today I went out and scrubbed the old metal patio furniture. This apocalyptic poo (as Aaron calls it) is so fierce that anywhere it surrendered, the white paint came off with it. This is why I was concerned enough to get it off the car. I wonder if one of these birds had shit on my head it would have eaten through my skull.
I love animals so much, but I'm really pissed at birds today.
In more pleasant news...
Angus was sitting there looking at me so sadly when I started to take this picture, but then he spotted a cat out the window, and his giant ears shot up.