|And those mofos would be geese.|
They live all around my house and cause a general disturbance (salute) of my daily life.
I normally love animals, all of them. And especially birds! Birds are the shit. But geese?! Fuck geese.
I hate their name. I hate the name of their young. I hate their color scheme. I hate their noise. I especially hate their noise at four in the morning when I'm trying to sleep so I can wake up and go to work, but they're right outside my window squorking up a cacophonous storm of pestilence.
|I don't even need an alarm anymore.|
|This happens daily.|
Believe me, I'd love to. But cleaning goose guts off my car is not something I have the time or energy to do. DAILY. Because they, like most birds, live in groups. Ganders, right? Stupid fucking word. All words related to geese are stupid. And they all start with G. Even their shit, which is green. Real cute. Anyway, running one over would mean running, like, eighteen over, which believe me would be doing the world a service, but that is a fuckton of goose to be cleaning.
The good and kind person inside of me (he's real, don't worry) prevents me from ending their meaningless existences, but next time I get the chance, I'm gonna kick one over like a pink lawn flamingo.
|Because they're stupid.|