Friday, November 13, 2009

Flight patterns

Two very distinct sounds this morning: A rifle cutting through the wet cold and the chatter of chaotic geese in the sky. I wonder if these sounds are related. It would seem that the geese are getting the hell out of here because they know that the humans are getting antsy and f***ing crazy as winter sets in. And what better way to release insanity than to buy a shotgun and have at nature....
And you wonder why karma is pissed? High-powered shotgun versus 10 pound, sluggish bird. A real match wouldn't you say? I'm all for surviving on your own, hell, I even like venison, but there's just something very one-sided about the whole thing....
I'd go with the geese, only because my life is a giant simile and I've felt the stare of the scope a few times.
I have to go trudging out into farm country today. Outta be fun, get out there, get covered with cow shit, get run over by a team of Suffolk Punch green broke drafts. I'm actually looking forward to it. Provided, of course, that I have my coffee glued to my hand and the radio in my car doesn't shit out as I approach North East B.F. I also have to pick up a present for my uni-bomber son for his birthday tomorrow. It's a toss up between G.I. Joe action figures with craploads of guns or Egyption playmobile dudes with chariots, whips, and spiked wheels.
We gave up on Montessori toys years ago. What a load of crap. Let's paint some kindling and sell it for $20 a pop to the hippies who don't know any better.
Clearly, I was a public school kid.
Dinner, a pasta dish known only as "The Seven Year Itch".

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