A Dead Bird Fell Straight From The Sky And Hit Me In The Head Today

I'm not kidding.

This is good luck, right? Please? Maybe he was just fooling around on top of a bridge or something, climbed out too far, John Travolta tried to save him, he failed and his friend fell to his death, John went on to do some mean rug-cutting in a disco competition, and ended the day on an anti-climactic note in some bitchy girl's apartment who only drank hot water with lemon.

I guess it could have been worse, it could have been a buzzard - or WORSE - it could have been a chunk of frozen pee-pee and poo-poo that fell from an airplane - or WORSE - it could have been a chunk of frozen pee-pee and poo-poo that fell from an airplane that Leif Garrett was on! Then I'd have to scrub my skin bare to get that funk off!

So, it could have been worse for me, but it certainly could have turned out a lot better for Mr. Pigeon. Vaya con dios, feathered friend. I did shed a little tear for you when no one was looking.

R.I.P.
Suicidal Pigeon
January 26, 2005

Mags