Tales of catastophe, sex and squalor from the Alpine Underbelly...

Belle de Neige

Tuesday, 22 May 2012

SbH: A humble fucking request

Dear Neighbours,
               
     Whilst we appreciate that birds, and pigeons in particular, are fine and noble birds and that their livelihood and wellbeing is of the utmost importance (not only providing the animals with wellbeing but one's inner being as well) we do not feel that your avian sanctuary, or as an estate agent would term it, front door, has appropriate safeguards from stopping their droppings landing on our (currently dormant) avian sanctuary/ doorstep.
I feel that we have been very patient and understanding with your quest to maintain the nutritional and dietary needs of the majestic native town pigeon. And I can understand your concerns for the species' wellbeing with scarce food resources and a dangerously low population. However when I returned this evening to find a detachment of the Royal Flying Corps Pigeon Squadron had carpet bombed our dormant avian sanctuary/ active front door step I found that my patience and understanding had reached its limit. To this end I am writing to you with a request to stop feeding the endangered town pigeon in front of your house. And if I may be so bold as to recommend some other places you could perhaps re-site your ground breaking avian sanctuary:
-A park
-A pond
-A forest
-A wood/ wooded area
-KFC
-Any government building
-A busy intersection
-A field
-A cliff
-A ‘kill box’
I hope you have found these suggestions useful and thought provoking avenues to look into and I think that your lone endeavours to ensure the survival of the humble town pigeon are highly praiseworthy and I hope you can understand the position that we are in. So to this end I kindly but firmly ask you to please stop feeding the fucking birds on our doorstep and whilst you’re at it feed the squirrels something that they won’t deposit the husks of in our back garden by the sodding tonne. Possibly another seed or nut – or arsenic. If you persist to feed the woefully endangered, majestic, ethereal fucking pigeon I will counter feed the flying shits with rice and other such expandable goodies until your front doorstep looks like a pigeon enactment of a Serbian mass execution.

Yours faithfully,

SbH

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...Ah. Domestic bliss. Last weekend the Umpa Lumpa moved out, much to our (probably slightly too evident) joy, leaving the house a veritable happy-land of relaxed frippery and fun. But alas, as we all know, when God ushers one cunt out the window he ushers another one right in the front door - and indeed, it is our front door step that has borne the brunt of this law according to St Bastard.

Continuing on his theme of ranting at the world and all of the creatures in it, I arrived home yesterday to find SbH seething in front of the computer, hammering at the keyboard and foaming at the mouth.

"Have you seen the front door step?" he fumed, pausing for a moment from his furious typing to give dramatic weight to his rage.

I replied that indeed I had seen it. And I was not impressed.

Anyway, the fruits of his labour, which I relay here for your enjoyment, are a mixture of indignant literary inspiration and pure bile, and have been duly printed and nailed to our next door neighbour's shabby front door, fuckers.


Question: If they continue to encourage the local pigeons to redecorate our house in excrement, would it be wrong to leave a flaming bag of our own faeces on their front door step and ring the bell?


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