Tuesday, 2 October 2007

A Pack Of Animals

A while ago, I pegged a squirrel with my front wheel. It was nasty, with the crunching sound and the whole 9 yards. Now, whenever I see a squirrel screwing around in front of me on the road, I get a little freaked. We have no deal with squirrels!

Last weekend, my friend Apple was telling us about the time he shot a bird from ridiculous range with his bb gun. He lined it up thinking "no way will I EVER hit this bird," squeezed the trigger and made it rain bird. Whoops. Good thing it was a pretty rare bird - the red tanager pictured above.

I still get the sweats thinking about the time I shot a seagull in the foot. I HATE SEAGULLS. The y are sky rats, nothing more. Absolutely awful birds, full stop. One summer when I was a kid, my friend's father's boat got absolutely drilled by seagull poo. We charged him like $50 to clean it all off, which at the time was pretty much the most money I'd ever seen in one place. Fast forward to that winter, and we are all screwing around with bb guns by the pond. I lined up a seagull standing on the ice and squoze that trigger, and lo and behold the seagull's foot gets knocked out from underneath and he goes pirouetting across the ice. I felt like a heel.

Then there was the time I caught a tiny ass little shark and a tern on the same day, within about five minutes of one another. I was in Pensacola, FL for my old job, and went out to the beach to have a couple of road sodas and fish a little. The current there macks through this inlet at like a hundred miles an hour, tons of fish. I was fishing these little surface popper things that the guy at the shop said would work great. So they did. A tiny little shark that looked like a catfish with nasty ass teeth took it the first time. That was fun. Then a tern decided to try it. Not so good. I wound up breaking the line, as the best of the terrible alternatives on hand.

1 comment:

Jim said...

I feel your pain on the squirrel. Couple weeks ago on the hottest riding day of the year, I was doing a slow climb up a ridiculous hill. I wasn't looking, and rode right through a dead woodchuck or something similar. It was bloated and burst, covering my legs in vile roadkill goo. For the remainder of the ride festering guts were on my legs, and the stink was ungodly. I showered and soaped off bigtime when I got home but the smell stuck in my nostrils for about 5 days.