I was driving through campus looking for a parking space, when I saw one on a side street. I was forced to stop quickly in the intersection, and I started turning before seeing pedestrians crossing. So, I had to stop in mid-turn, in the oncoming lane of traffic, until they crossed. But as soon as they crossed I quickly accelerated, to get out of the way of oncoming traffic (and avoid being naturally selected myself). As I was going through, I saw a bird land in the crosswalk. It was too late (and dangerous) to stop, and anyways, birds seem to have some miraculous ability to avoid being hit. But not this time. When I got out of my car, I saw the bird, still in the crosswalk, but now less alive than before. Obviously, this bird hadn't perfected it's "miraculous car-avoidance" capability yet.
I've actually heard that the crow is one of the more intelligent bird species, and some even have the ability to talk as well as other intelligent abilities. In fact, in unreported results, a remote control was placed in the bird's environment, and the birds were able to control a television. Two of the crows universally turned the channel off of Fox News, saying they found the commentary "Too loud. Caw! Too loud. Caw! Strawman. Caw! False dichotomy. Caw!" I couldn't agree more, except with the "caw" part, as there is no need to resort to vulgarities. The other two crows spent all their time bowling, driving around in pick-up trucks, and calling poor people lazy.
Later on she showed this to another male, who was similarly not impressed. She said something about men not appreciating things of that nature like women do. I explained that I just have a personal vendetta about birds, as well as a healthy phobia. This started some contention, as she explained herself as a bird lover. Long story short, we have agreed never to be in one another's company again. I cannot even comprehend how someone could utter the sentence "I love birds." To me, that seems as irrational as liking getting punched in the face.
Person is waving this toy back and forth as the cat chases the end of it and tries to pounce.
Person: How can the cat be so amused by this? Why does it keep playing with it for so long? What is it thinking?
Answer: You've been playing with it the exact same length of time as the cat. What are you thinking?
As far as I'm concerned, the only thing cats are good for is killing birds.
Linz: If you could kiss your own ass, would you?
Guy 1: I bet I can kiss my own ass!
Linz: Thats not the question. If you could, would you?
Guy 2: Dude, I'll give you $5 if you can get within 6 inches.
(Guy 1 tries to kiss his own ass, by going through the crotch, past the genitals, and doesn't even get close)
To me, the funniest part about this exchange is how the original question is so intentionally silly, yet it turns into something serious.
The smaller room has a small balcony coming off of it. It's tiny, maybe four feet by four feet, but it could be somewhat useful. I was thinking if I had this room it might be nice to put some plants out there, maybe a hanging flower pot, some small potted plants on the ground, and a smidgen of weed. This would give my balcony a touch of class, at the risk of giving evidence to those who already question my sexuality.
The only problem I can think of with this plan is those damned birds. My parents hang potted plants out on their front porch, and every year some mangy flying rodents settle in them. Instead of seeing this as a negative though, I could use it as an opportunity for scientific discovery and an outlet for my bird hating. Here is the plan: I'll set up some potted plants with bright bird-attracting colors. Then I wait for a bird to nest. Once it has nested, I wait for it to pop out some eggs. Next, I wait for the bird to fly off and get food, leaving its unprotected eggs. Okay, so far I know the plan mainly involves waiting, but its about to get interesting.
When the bird is gone, I will go outside to its nest, dump the eggs out (or take them inside and scramble them), and replace them with giant plastic easter eggs. You may think there is no way even a stupid bird could fall for this, but as I've mentioned previously, the cuckoo bird does something very similar to this already.
There are precautions I must take, however. When I am going outside to do the dirty deed, I will wear a tuxedo and a motorcycle helmet, in case the bird returns. There are two reasons for this. First, if the bird sees me stealing its eggs, it might get angry. I don't want the bird to be able to recognize me if it sees me sometime later, say in the grocery store or at the club. The tuxedo and helmet is sufficiently different from my usual outfit of pink hotpants and Gap Kids tank top so that the bird will consider the outfits as two distinct people. The second reason for the outfit is protection. Birds have sharp beaks, and they will peck you in the eyes with them on a whim, leaving you blind, especially if you are stealing their offspring. A motorcycle helmet protects me from birds attacking my eyes, and also makes me look cool for once. Why does it have to be a tuxedo? Well, I own one, and I don't really have any other opportunities to wear it.
Back to the plan. Once the plastic eggs are in the nest, the bird will try sitting on them. First it will be uncomfortable, because the fake eggs will be so much bigger than real ones. More importantly, plastic eggs will never hatch! I can't help but wonder, if the bird really was fooled, how long would it sit on eggs that are lifeless? Would the bird sit on them well past the expected birthdate, say well into winter? That would be astounding. If I get the small room, and I get this plan in motion, I will set up a webcam pointed at the nest so everybody can check it out. This is going to be amazing. The only thing that would be better is if I took the birds eggs inside, kept them warm, and then hatched them myself. I would raise them as children, then when they got old enough I would take them to my window and show the parent (still sitting on a plastic easter egg, mind you) what I've done with its offspring. Finally, they would be trained to seek out and kill other birds in my neighborhood. Okay, sorry, I guess that's getting a little crazy.
The problem is our lack of aggression. Birds are quite fearful of us, even though most birds go an entire lifetime without ever being attacked by humans. This morning, I saw about 50 birds on the grass in between the sidewalk and the road, pecking at something. I'm not sure what it was, but I have a guess. As I approached, they scattered of course. Some of them are quite young, and can only escape a little ways ahead of me. But of course I will reach them again soon, forcing them to fly away again. My point is that if those birds had been attacked by a real aggressor, they would have been dead, and the weak would have been weeded out as natural selection says. But since I didn't have any violent motives, I was basically just giving them a chance to exercise! Our passiveness towards birds is turning them into ultra-strong killing machines. It makes me sick to say this, but I'm pretty much the John Basedow of birds. Except I don't have disgustingly ripped abs.
I have done some computer modeling, and simulated how our current course of actions will result. This is a picture of what a typical sparrow looks like. This is what it's simulated to look like in 100 years. In short, it's not going to be pretty. I recommend not having children, as they will inevitably be eaten by giant telepathic sparrows in the year 2090.
In related news, one of the three readers of this blog sent in a personal experience that serves as a cautionary tale:
Yesterday I had a meeting before I cam into the office. When I got into the office my desk was covered with dirt and dust. The lady I share an office with told me how a bird had gotten into the ceiling tiles and then was flying around in the office before someone finally chased it out. I told her that if I would have been here that I would have screamed like a girl with that thing dive bombing me in the office. Needless to say I was happy I had a meeting before I cam in yesterday.The lesson here is, don't come in to work early because that is when birds usually try to attack humans. Also, a fear of birds can induce so much fear that a person will repeatedly forget to type the 'e' at the end of the word "came." I hope I didn't just offend a third of my readership.