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meg fowler tripp dot com
You are currently browsing comments. If you would like to return to the full story, you can read the full entry here: “i hope the msg upsets your stomach.”.
We call them shit-hawks and I hate them. I actually avoid Granville Island because of their slanty eyed, beaky evilness.
Very sorry for your chicken balls.
Imagine how the chicken feels, all ball-less and stuff. (Would that be a rooster?)
You funny!
Oh, my God! An Alfred Hitchcock moment. Quick pretend you are Tippi Hedren.
Polly Vinyl… I don’t know if she’ll ever meet “Elizabeth Tailored”… the cloth doll Meaghan named because she noticed it had violet colored buttons for eyes-and it was–tailored!!(Miss Tailored lives in storage.)
Also–It was the universal gasp and squeal immediate to the incident that got me! That and people clutching their young to themselves!!We won’t discuss Meg’s repeated expletive. Somehow it didn’t lose it’s meaning as words often do when you say them over and over again!
They are absolute bastards & I speak as one particularly well disposed to birds. A farmer friend in Devon told me about seagulls taking the eyes out of his lambs. In St Ives in Cornwall – one of my all-time favourite parts of the world – they prey regularly on those dining, as you were, al fresco. And there have been reports of actual attacks on people attempting to defend their fish & chips! And in Connemara we watched them daily mobbing lone herons & cormorants foolish enough to hang about on rocks on their own.
Congratulations on your verbal restraint, Meg!
Goddamn seagulls! Rats with wings, I calls ‘em. (But I love Polly!)
Damn seagulls! Don’t nobody mess with my chicken balls.
I need a polly!