100 years ago I was up at Fort Mac, gobbling my lunch when one of these chit birds landed on the rear view mirror of my truck. He’d do a little song and a dance and then stare in at me, guilt tripping me with his eyes... and my conscience did the rest. “You gonna eat all those freedom fries, Filthie? Cripes... it’s -30C out there, and the poor bird needs the calories way, WAY more than you do...” ... and the next thing I knew, I’d handed over all my fries and he wanted my burg too!
I can see why the natives and Vikings alike love these birds. Ya know perfectly well that once the bird processes those cookies... they’re gonna end up on the hood or windshield of your car, right...? But... bird chit comes off easy, and the car needs a wash anyways...
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