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Wednesday, 21 July 2004

The Birds, The Birds

Seemingly there’s no getting away from them. Back in the City by the Sea we were plagued by pigeons. Noisy bastards, day and night bellowing outside the flat. It would appear that we have merely exchanged pigeons for chickens. Chickens have got to be the stupidest creatures imaginable. Huffing and fluffing and squawking on those little legs that look like they belong on something else. The cockerels are the dumbest. They crow all night long as well as all day. Clearly they were never taught the sunrise rule. The Husband and I fantasise about ways of killing them. I favour smacking with a spade. Unfortunately they all belong to Chief, who is allegedly raising them as a money-making venture and would probably not take too kindly to rousal by carnage. We also contemplate moving the chicken-coop deeper into the forest, in the hope that the birds will be trampled to death by grazing bullocks. The chickens would be too stupid to wonder why the coop had moved, but possibly Chief would be unhappy.

Because of the Chickennoise we have to wear earplugs when we go to sleep. The Husband tells me that his earplugs are size large and that the ends stick out of his ears. I find this hysterically funny (hey, we got no cartoons, we gotta make our own amusement) and it is some minutes before I recover enough to find the packet the earplugs came in and check for myself. He’s right! Writ large on the side is ‘Large’. OMIGOD! What is that about? I picked them up at Boots Three for Two without even noticing – earplugs is earplugs. LARGE. What, do some people have like really big earholes? So big that they are in danger of losing a ‘normal’ earplug down there? I am FASCINATED. I want to meet these people! I might run an ad:

WLTM person with really big lugholes. Preferably someone who has in the past lost a normal earplug down there.

Man alive, it would make a great 70’s TV show – Giant Earhole Man… He could be a drug smuggler.