I am pretty sure I found a human femur on the way to my Pilates session a few weeks ago. Let me tell you, there is a lot of weird shit on 1st Avenue, but usually I don't see human bones on the sidewalk. Quite honestly, however, I'm much more concerned about the crow stalking me in Laurelhurst. They remember faces, you know.
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| This is a creepy sock bird I made for my cousin's first baby. He does not remember faces, luckily. |
What to do when one is at risk for attack at all times?
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| Wear a helmet, obvi. |
You're absolutely right, though. A helmet is no match for a killer crow. I'm serious. I walk under that jack wagon's tree, and he frickin' quoth "Nevermore" every time. Now what? How to stay safe when living in a real life, "The Birds?"
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| That's me on the way to work. |
One of my good friend's husband is a police officer. Much to his chagrin, we like to call him "Safety Sam." He is incredibly, well... safe. Last night I texted my friend, "Ask Safety Sam if he thinks I will get murdered if I go for a run at 0600 in Pioneer Square tomorrow." Safety Sam doesn't want me to step outside my door at all, let alone go running by myself in the wee hours of the morning- I already know this. I just want to rile up poor old S.S.
Let's be serious, when one is being stalked by an "old money," serial killer crow, one
must find time to mess with the local law enforcement. That way, when the crows in the fancy part of town peck my eyes (that they have methodically studied for months on end) out, and the cops find me dead of eye hemorrhage, they won't feel so bad. "Too bad this crazy bitch got pecked to death, " they will feign grief, "But you know, she really shouldn't have strategically scared the shit out of Safety Sam so often."
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This has nothing to do with Safety Sam; it just reminds me of Tony Soprano (RIP) who was obviously the opposite
sort of character. |
I was told that running at an early hour such as 0600 was ill-advised, but of course, the decision was left entirely up to me. Great! Now if I get murdered, I can't even blame Safety Sam.
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| NOT pictured here: Safety Sam. I am the dude in the pseudo-fedora on the far left. Obvi. |
Have you a Safety Sam in your life? A cautious individual that you would like to blame for your calculated, eye pecking murder, but in the end it is your own damn fault for running by yourself amongst a slew of mentally ill drug addicts without your pepper spray? Bad news, you can't get sound advice, ignore it, and then blame Safety Sam when you wind up as one of the innumerable, well- memorized faces of a crow with a view of Lake Washington. Whatever your choice, you can't blame Safety Sam for the good or bad in the world. You get to make your choices, and live with them.
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| Joke's on Safety Sam: he has to live with the choice of not hiring security for his wedding reception |
Life Lesson #2 If you are about to be murdered by high- class crows, and you happen to spot a human femur as you are frantically searching for refuge, don't say he didn't warn you.
