I killed a bird this morning.
I have now been present at the car-related deaths of:
2 birds.
1 cat.
1 goat.
So, anyway, this bird, right... It just flew right into my windscreen. And it's not like it was flying perpendicular to the car, and happened to be unlucky enough to be there when my car was there... It flew INTO my windscreen.
It divebombed it.
Clonk.
I look back. No bird.
10 seconds later.
Donk. It falls back to the ground.
I assume it went Donk, obviously I couldn't hear it.
It got the old memory machine working, though...
If you'll recall, I recently attempted to give up drugs.
The reason given was that my mind was becoming increasingly detached from reality. I didn't elaborate on this point very much.
When I say "increasingly detached from reality," I mean:
1. Sitting in the cinema, wondering if you just shouted, or just thought you shouted, waiting for someone to react so you can attain some certainty.
2. Thinking you're just about home from work, because you've imagined the entire trip while going to turn the ignition.
3. Coming up with elaborate theories inre: your future-self timetravelling back and manipulating women into driving past you. And believing them, if only for a second.
4. Coming up with an elaborate theory that the recent increase in roadkill on the freeway (due to roadworks on same) is somehow directly responsible for the larger than normal number of people dying on said freeway during a short period - that the road itself had gotten a taste for blood - and fucking freaking out over said theory for the entire drive home.
So, yeah, that's what I remembered this morning when I killed a bird.
Consider yourself enlightened.
----
My sister is attempting to read Graham Greene's The Quiet American for the purposes of her upcoming year 12 studies.
That is, she is attempting to listen to an audiobook of it.
I say "attempting" because she keeps on falling asleep in the middle of it.
Sis: I'm just going to read a summary on the internet, so I can find out what happens in the end.
Me: Why don't you just skip to the end?
Sis: I did. I fell asleep.
Me: You, madam, are quelle slack.
Sis: What the fuck... how can you even talk? You did sweet fuck all study when you did Year 12... I'm going to get 95 anyway, what does it matter if I don't read the book right now. We're not even studying it until September.
Me: All good points.
She then told me about this kid at the pool where she lifeguards.
This kid was bitching. This kid was moaning. This kid was whinging.
See, the thing was, his sisters are SOOOOOO mean to him.
This went on for about 20 minutes, before my sister told him he should be nicer to his sisters, and maybe they'd be nice to him.
Later she talked to his mother... The kid was an only child.
-----
I recieved an SMS from Jelly at around 7ish.
"Hey man!" it read approximately, "Ramones are on Live at the Wireless JJJ at 8!"
The Ramones, eh?
Eh? EH?
GABBA-GABBA-HEY! Bring it on.
Anyway, while I was listening, I found an almost empty pad on my bookshelf... apart from a bit of my BLOOD and some scrawled notes from my drunken anarchist interviews it was empty.
I ripped out the offending pages, and began to write a fairy tale. It went exactly like this:
---------------------------
Once upon a time there was a man called Jefferson Tan.
He was a very bad man.
He would feed poisoned bread to birds and steal balloons from adorable European children.
Sometimes he would kick the children as well.
Jefferson Tan was a frail, broekn man. Everywhere he went he would support himself on a thick black ashen cane.
If he saw a worm or a snail, he would be sure to squish it with his cane until it was a gooey pulp.
And if no-one was looking...
He would pick up the mush.
And eat it!
Jefferson Tan, as already indicated, was a very bad man.
Next door to Jefferson Tan lived two adorable European children called Paul and Mary Thomas.
They lived in a two bedroom apartment with their aunt Esmerelda - their parents had been murderered years earlier by pro-life activists tripping on qualudes.
Aunt Esmerelda was terribly nice to them, but she was also terribly sexually frustrated.
To alleviate this problem, every month she would leave the children with a sitter while she attended wild orgies in the basement of the Pogo Club.
One fateful night, however, the Thomas' usual sitter, Terrence the Fishmonger from across the way, was unavailable.
He was at a fish conference in Sweden.
As were all the other fishmongers that the Thomas' knew.
Aunt Esmerelda was in a right state!
She couldn't leave the children alone in a house full of scissors and ovens and other implements of destruction.
On the other hand, she had needs of her own.
To put it frankly, her pussy ached for a big, fat cock.
"Whatever shall I do?" she wondered aloud.
Just then, she spotted the bent form of Jefferson Tan though the kitchen window.
"That's it!" she exclaimed, and with that she went next door to ask a favour of her elderly neighbour.
Surprisingly, Jefferson Tan was happy to take the "little tackers" off her hands, though the Thomas children were less keen.
"He's mean to us," said Mary.
"And he eats worms!" added Paul.
"Nonsense," said Aunt Esmerelda, "Now be good for Mr. Tan, children."
And with that, she left them in the care of Jefferson Tan while she went off to enjoy a three-way with the Mayor and a prominent media figure whome we cannot name for legal reasons.
Jefferson Tan stooped over the adorable European children.
This balloon stealer.
This child kicker.
This worm eater.
Jefferson Tan was all these things and more, and now the Thomas children were trapped in this monster's house.
Tan opened his mouth to speak -
The children shied away...
- "Scrabble anyone?" said Jefferson Tan.
One great game of Scrabble later, and they were all the best of friends.
"Mr. Tan isn't really all that bad," said Paul to Mary while Tan was fetching them all hot cups of cocoa from the kitchen. "He's just misunderstood."
Mary agreed.
"Oh, Paul," called Tan from the kitchen, "could you help me carry this cocoa into the drawing room?"
"Sure thing, Mr. Tan," said Paul, jumping up.
He ran into the kitchen.
Shortly thereafter, a horrible scream emananted from same.
Mary ran in to see what all the commotion was, whereupon she was confronted with the sight of her dead brother, his neck hanging open in a second bloody smile.
"Why so shocked, Mary dear?" asked Jefferson Tan, a very bad man.
---------------
When Esmerelda came to collect her children, some hours later, she was astounded to find their mutilated remains hanging from the apple tree in her front yard.
Jefferson Tan was never seen again.
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