I prefer a big, fat OVENMITT! Rebel.
PERFECT. You should use an oven-mitt with a picture of a bird on it.
...that hurt my head.Alternately I could stick my hand up a peacock. I just said that to sound simultaneously badass and psychotic. And alarming. To peacocks.
Not the whole hand, veg. Just give it "the bird." Oh SNAP. I'm going to embark on a lifetime habit of flippin' the bird at birds.But back to your proposal in re: the hand (more accurately in re: the peacock) - you know, peacocks are supposedly incredibly kinky birds. I'm not sure the peacock would mind.No, I have no idea really. I'm not even sure what "kinky" would be to a bird. I imagine birds are probably some kinky motherflockers within their own twisted system of bird sociosexual mores, but all that comes to mind immediately for me would be gettin' it on with a cuckoo. When you're not actually a cuckoo I mean. Would the term "cuckold" still apply? Either way you're clucked probably.
I was out birding and a bird pooped on me which I imagine is the bird equivalent of flipping me the bird.PICTURED HERE - possibly NSFW if your boss has imposed a no-looking-at-bird-poop policy.
Mel did I tell you a hummingbird pooped on your Dodgy hat while I was sitting in my garden last weekend?? I felt it was some kind of benediction.
You didn't! That's kinda awesome! If it washes out, that is. Funny you should mention that, because I kid you not, when it happened to me I was very much amused but I also thought to myself how significantly different my close-encounter was to your Hummingbird Garden where birds land on your shoulders and say "Good Morning, Joe!" like it's some sort of Disney film. Turns out though, not so different!It's not really my hat though, it's yours. Or at the very least a shared one like some young adult fiction Travelling Hat situation.
The hat's definitely yours, Melster, the only proviso being you can't have it back. Still, every time I put it on I'm like, aw yeh. Time for another day of adventures wearing Mel's sweet hat.You know though, it is a little credulity straining that it fits both of us. That's one of the things with the pants right? Fits perfect regardless!
Yes, that's the premise of the book(s). It's strange because the books are great, well at least the first was, but the fantastical concept of a pair of magical pants that fit all the girls with differing body shapes doesn't sit well with the rest of the narrative at all, which is just your standard coming-of-age stuff. But that aside, it's a great read, and contains one of my favourite quotes from anything I've ever read (which I may have told you before).Lena knew she had spent too much of her life in a state of passive dread, just waiting for something bad to happen. In a life like that, relief was as close as you got to happiness.I'll never forget reading that for the first time.Anyway, I actually came on to post this!Here's how that bird (and at least one more) made it into the Bernie Sanders rally on FridayThe video is so cool, I came across this article trying to find out what kind of bird it is, but no dice. It all gets delightfully meta at the end of the article with the bird pooping on the laptop.
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