Very bored this weekend, so I am writing in an even more unhinged way than usual about mundane matters.
I have fucking birds in my chimney. Crows, in all probability. This neighbourhood is full of them. I haven't lit a fire yet, so the bastards have nested up there. I could hear the fuckers this afternoon gurgling and squawking and shitting and God knows what other disgusting noises. I've had to put a board across the fireplace to stop the shit and bits of berries coming down and scattering all over the floor. I'm doing this until I sweep the chimney and get a guard fitted.
I don't mind birds in the garden. But I don't want them in my fucking house.
I could get a clerical officer to sit up there as a scarecrow. Untidy Guy would fit the bill nicely. I'd have to lure him to my place with the promise of organic lentil and asparagus stew (seems to like that kind of stuff). Picture the scenario as I go to unlock the front door:
Untidy Guy: Ooh, Govstooge, I'm really looking forward to this healthy repast you have invited me to your home for.
Govstooge: Yeah, yeah. Err... just what the hell do you think you're doing?
UG: I'm coming in.
Govstooge: Like fuck you are, knobjockey. Get up on that roof.
UG: What?
Govstooge: Here's a ladder and two saucepan lids. Get up there and scare those cunting birds off.
UG: I must warn you, this goes completely against Union regulations.
Govstooge: Shut the fuck up. We're not at work now. But I'm still in charge. Bwahahahahahaha! Remember the "additional duties at the discretion of manager" bit on your role profile form? You do? Good... now get up there or I'll give you a grade '1' on your next PMDS review. And then I'll set the form on fire, and shove it up your arse.
UG: (Under breath) Bitch.
Three hours later...
UG: Err, Govstooge, can I come down now? I think I managed to scare them all off.
Govstooge: No, just another while longer. I think I hear them coming back.
UG: But it's cold and uncomfortable up here. The ridge pole is digging into the cleft of my buttocks. And I'm hungry.
Govstooge: (throwing stale bread onto roof) Here, eat this. Oh shit, look what I've done.
The sky is suddenly black with birds.
UG: Arrgh!
Govstooge: Bwahahahahahaha!
Several hours later Untidy Guy is allowed to climb down from the roof. His clothes are in tatters and there are several chunks of skin taken out of his arms.
UG: So, can I have my lentil and asparagus stew now?
Govstooge: No. Piss off home.
UG: But I don't have a car, and my house is 30 miles from here.
Govstooge: Walking's good for you. Fuck off. And don't be late for work tomorrow or I'll write you up.
An alternate ending to this would be Untidy Guy falling off the roof to his death, but that would have been too mean.
I have fucking birds in my chimney. Crows, in all probability. This neighbourhood is full of them. I haven't lit a fire yet, so the bastards have nested up there. I could hear the fuckers this afternoon gurgling and squawking and shitting and God knows what other disgusting noises. I've had to put a board across the fireplace to stop the shit and bits of berries coming down and scattering all over the floor. I'm doing this until I sweep the chimney and get a guard fitted.
I don't mind birds in the garden. But I don't want them in my fucking house.
I could get a clerical officer to sit up there as a scarecrow. Untidy Guy would fit the bill nicely. I'd have to lure him to my place with the promise of organic lentil and asparagus stew (seems to like that kind of stuff). Picture the scenario as I go to unlock the front door:
Untidy Guy: Ooh, Govstooge, I'm really looking forward to this healthy repast you have invited me to your home for.
Govstooge: Yeah, yeah. Err... just what the hell do you think you're doing?
UG: I'm coming in.
Govstooge: Like fuck you are, knobjockey. Get up on that roof.
UG: What?
Govstooge: Here's a ladder and two saucepan lids. Get up there and scare those cunting birds off.
UG: I must warn you, this goes completely against Union regulations.
Govstooge: Shut the fuck up. We're not at work now. But I'm still in charge. Bwahahahahahaha! Remember the "additional duties at the discretion of manager" bit on your role profile form? You do? Good... now get up there or I'll give you a grade '1' on your next PMDS review. And then I'll set the form on fire, and shove it up your arse.
UG: (Under breath) Bitch.
Three hours later...
UG: Err, Govstooge, can I come down now? I think I managed to scare them all off.
Govstooge: No, just another while longer. I think I hear them coming back.
UG: But it's cold and uncomfortable up here. The ridge pole is digging into the cleft of my buttocks. And I'm hungry.
Govstooge: (throwing stale bread onto roof) Here, eat this. Oh shit, look what I've done.
The sky is suddenly black with birds.
UG: Arrgh!
Govstooge: Bwahahahahahaha!
Several hours later Untidy Guy is allowed to climb down from the roof. His clothes are in tatters and there are several chunks of skin taken out of his arms.
UG: So, can I have my lentil and asparagus stew now?
Govstooge: No. Piss off home.
UG: But I don't have a car, and my house is 30 miles from here.
Govstooge: Walking's good for you. Fuck off. And don't be late for work tomorrow or I'll write you up.
An alternate ending to this would be Untidy Guy falling off the roof to his death, but that would have been too mean.
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2 comments:
Surely crows in yor chimney are less hassle than clerical officers on your roof? Smoke both of the fuckers out I say!
Well, I'm not much of a shot with a gun, but as a CO is a larger target, I have a better chance of hitting them.
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