To Cull A Mocking Bird

Or… Faster Pussycat! Cull! Cull!

Not too long ago I shared my views on the overwhelming assholery of the guinea fowl. The hatred I felt has only intensified since then. And to think I once loved them dearly! And now that they have full flight capabilities, the entire neighborhood is suffering from an onslaught of auditory shittery.  Well folks. I’ve made a huge decision. The birds WILL not live to see 2017!

2016 has been a terrible year for me. Politically and emotionally. It all started with the passing of my beloved David Bowie. Of which I’ve shared me thoughts here. Then it’s been a tumultuous and ever-downward shit-storm. And not only for me personally, I think a large portion of the country will agree that 2016 can readily and vigorously go fuck itself. No lube!!

I haven’t had much material to share with you because every time I go into the yard to either get inspiration, simply unwind or work on a project, I just end up getting pissed off at either the damage the fowl have done, or the ear-piercing noise and shrieking that they’re vomiting into my tender ears. So I end up retreating inside to hide away from the unavoidable murder that MUST occur.

Me hiding from my problems

This is no good to either of us. I have lost my one true sanctuary in the world, and you have lost my obnoxious lunacy gently mixed with gardening and danger. Well, That ends tomorrow!! Tomorrow, the Great Hunt begins.

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