There is a bird dive-bombing people at Navy Pier on a daily basis. I have been attacked three times myself. He is a small, black bird with red lines on his wings. My dad is more than likely going to look it up, so I will soon be able to discern whether this is common practice for this species or if we have a rogue, psychotic bird on our hands. His assaults don’t hurt, but it scares the shit out of you. He comes swooping in from behind, hits you in the head, with what some have said his feet, but I don’t know how the hell they can tell, he lets out a squawk, and by the time you turn around he’s gone.
Some have said he may be protecting a nest, which I don’t buy. I mean, I’m just walking by with photographs to sell to people, and I’m not even looking at your nest. Now that you’re hitting me in the head I want to scramble up your unborn children and make a hobo skillet out of them, but If you had just left me alone I would have never entertained this notion. My theory is he’s just an asshole. I can tell by his little squawk that he’s an asshole. Keith, a coworker of mine, has been hit a few times too. He said one day he sensed he was coming, so he turned around just in time to see him come to a stop and backpedal flap away like a little bitch. So, we’ve learned that he only attacks those who don’t look. We thought about putting our sunglasses, which I lost the other day (shit!), on the back of our heads in the hopes that he will think we are looking. If that doesn’t work I’m going to get John Rambo on his ass.
I was all for settling this matter peacefully, but the other day I was hung-over and crabby and he delivered his hardest blow to date, knocking my sunglasses (which I need to buy now, damn!) off my head, and causing me to yell, “God damn it!” at the top of my lungs despite the fact that there were kids everywhere. I have come to the conclusion that the ultimate tool to send this little prick to birdie hell is a tennis racket, so I’ll be bringing a Head racket with shock absorbers tomorrow. Sorry if this offended any animal lovers out there, but he started it and I’m going to finish it.
There is a bird dive-bombing people at Navy Pier on a daily basis. I have been attacked three times myself. He is a small, black bird with red lines on his wings. My dad is more than likely going to look it up, so I will soon be able to discern whether this is common practice for this species or if we have a rogue, psychotic bird on our hands. His assaults don’t hurt, but it scares the shit out of you. He comes swooping in from behind, hits you in the head, with what some have said his feet, but I don’t know how the hell they can tell, he lets out a squawk, and by the time you turn around he’s gone. 
Some have said he may be protecting a nest, which I don’t buy. I mean, I’m just walking by with photographs to sell to people, and I’m not even looking at your nest. Now that you’re hitting me in the head I want to scramble up your unborn children and make a hobo skillet out of them, but If you had just left me alone I would have never entertained this notion. My theory is he’s just an asshole. I can tell by his little squawk that he’s an asshole. Keith, a coworker of mine, has been hit a few times too. He said one day he sensed he was coming, so he turned around just in time to see him come to a stop and backpedal flap away like a little bitch. So, we’ve learned that he only attacks those who don’t look. We thought about putting our sunglasses, which I lost the other day (shit!), on the back of our heads in the hopes that he will think we are looking. If that doesn’t work I’m going to get John Rambo on his ass. 
I was all for settling this matter peacefully, but the other day I was hung-over and crabby and he delivered his hardest blow to date, knocking my sunglasses (which I need to buy now, damn!) off my head, and causing me to yell, “God damn it!” at the top of my lungs despite the fact that there were kids everywhere. I have come to the conclusion that the ultimate tool to send this little prick to birdie hell is a tennis racket, so I’ll be bringing a Head racket with shock absorbers tomorrow. Sorry if this offended any animal lovers out there, but he started it and I’m going to finish it.
8 comments:
Anon- Well, he is.
i call my cat an asshole occasionally. he likes to tap things off the counter with his paws if i don't respond to his meows in a timely fashion.
good luck bird hunting.
Laura- That is a dick move on your cat's part.
You could always bribe the damn thing with a bag of fritos. If he's not a taker, I am sure you can find another use for those corn delicacies. Also, a local hobo knife fight crew might have enough moxie to take that bird down, you should look into it.
We have birds like that down here. Every spring, we're ducking and weaving from psycho Magpie birds.
I have a scar on my head from the sharp beak of a Magpie.
To this day, i hate, loathe and detest birds.
Flying rats!
Jen- Fritos will only encourage the likes of these birds. I'm bumping Eddie Murphy's My Girl Wants to Party All the Time as I Type This.
Steph- I'll have to pack lots of tennis rackets if I ever go to Austrailia.
Any news on the bird front? Depending on the outcome, you might have a story for "This American Life".
Your story could be the new "Squirrel Cop". That story makes me laugh until I have tears rolling down my face anytime I hear it.
I have not been attacked since I posted this blog. My theory: This bird can read and he's a scared little panty-waist.
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