Friday, July 4, 2008


Happy 4th of July! Exciting day for the Americans, not so exciting for the rest of the world. But since I am an American, I'd like to share with you my most told story at 4th of July barbecues (that I am dragged to, against my will).

I was walking down the street today, and I saw a bird in a tree. But not just any bird, the bird. The bird that killed my baby sister. I knew at once that seeing it today, of all days, was no coincidence. I'd just gotten my shotgun cleaned, and I had it strapped to my back. So I pulled it out of it's strappings, held it up so I could see through it's sights, aimed at the bird.... it was the perfect shot, I pulled the trigger....... shit, I didn't have any shells loaded. I reached into my pocket and started to pull out the two shells I always keep in case of emergencies, when the bird spotted me....... It zoomed towards me, a nose dive with it's beak of death. I thought for sure that I was in for it. That the words "fuck me" would the last words I'd ever think..... a car drove between us, the bird hit it's windshield and fell down dead. But not just any car, the car. The car that killed my dog Lucky.

1 comment:

Mr. J said...

why god why...must there be blood shed on a day called the 4th.. Why must birds kill baby sisters and cars kill dogs called Lucky? It is bullshit I tell you