Bird On A Wire

 

I am thankful–thankful I’m not a bird.

That’s right, a bird’s life is NOT for me.

Oh it looks inviting from outside–winters in warmer weather, having the bone structure of a runway model & shitting wherever you want.

But I am not that superficial.

 

I think there is more to life than sitting on a wire.

 

Whereas we have venues like the Eagles, Elks, VFW, Knights of Columbus, even Dave & Busters to gather together, the wire is the big social club for birds.

The fine-feathered hangout.

A place they can flock, chirping it up, gossiping about who is nesting with whom.

I simply don’t have the balance to perch on a wire.  Heck, I have a hard enough time trying to stand on the bathroom scale without holding on.  No way I would be able to handle the sway of the wire or gusts of wind.

Plus, I don’t have the feet to be a bird.

Though I admit before my last clipping, my toenails could have been mistaken for talons!

(When you hear “Click-Clack” sounds while walking barefoot on a hardwood floor-maybe it’s time for a nail trim.)

 

A bird’s diet is also less than appealing.  Although scarfing a worm is gotta be similar to eating plain, cooked spaghetti.  Add some sauce & grated cheese and they both probably taste the same.

Yeah I’m thankful I am not a bird.  

But pooping on my neighbor’s new car DOES sound fun.