I think the birds of the world are up to something. They're hatching some kind of diabolical plan to take over the world and it's up to us to stop them!
Here's how I know:
1.) Liz was attacked by one. It's a good thing she's a C.N. (Certificated Nunchucker)
2.) One infiltrated Andrea's building (maybe to tap the phones or plant explosives or check out the snack situation in case of a lengthy stand-off.)
3.) Early in the morning the birds that live in the trees outside my apartment have been having some kind of heated war counsel. They shriek and chirp and yell at each other for hours. I'm pretty sure that they are rival gangs who have no choice but to come together in the name of Total World Domination. But they're not happy about it.
4.) There are plump little fledglings all over Las Brisas (I know they are fledglings because Liz pointed them out to me. She knows a thing or two about birds. Specifically birds who are trying to kill you.) They hop around the parking lot, looking adorable, and I have a feeling that while I'm distracted by their chubby cuteness the heavies are pecking away at the gas line in my apartment.
5.) Birds are suddenly ignoring my car. Three times in the last week I have come very close to squashing birds with my car because, even though they're looking right at me, they refuse to get out of the way. Yesterday one took off about a second before my car ran it over and instead of flying away from the car, it flew into my windshield! These birds are playing chicken with me and I don't like it. Their boldness is terrifying.
6.) I have seen four dead birds this week. FOUR! One just this morning. This is the one that really gets me because I think the birds are sending us a message that says: see what we did to our friends who resisted us? Imagine what we would do to our enemies.
I wonder if they're upset that the swine flu has kicked the avian flu to the curb