Wednesday, 14 April 2010

Pity for the Partridge, Sorrow for the Sparrow

Birds can fly; we cannot. And long, long has man looked to the birds and coveted their power to soar above the world, to sail upon the gladsome breeze, ride tattered clouds and do poos on people's heads from really high up. But please, before going berserk with envy and frustration, dear Readers, I would ask you to spare a little thought for one very grave misfortune endured by our feathered friends. Please - before you go out torching nests and toppling birdbaths - calm yourselves, and ponder this: with pretty wings instead of hands and brains the size of lentils, our friends the birds may fly about to their tiny wee hearts' content, but they are quite unable to wank.

Yes... Just think about that.


  1. Well precisely. Or knitting (another thing they can't do).

    Really, the more one thinks about it the more one can understand why they keep trying to soil us with their droppings.