The birds don’t give two shits – Except when it comes to me.

So, I’ve recently found myself a target for birds. Whether it’s their feces or the sudden and startling resurrection of a bird from the dumpster, they seem to want to be a part of my life.

Just yesterday I was “lucky” enough to have a pigeon shit on my shoulder, as I was paying for a parking spot in Toronto. Now, I’ve heard throughout my travels that bird shit is quite lucky. I beg to differ. I wonder why poop and superstitions go together like KFC and Ice Cream. The superstition of stepping on dog shit with your left foot while in Paris is also thought to be lucky yet I’ve never heard of any shit steppers winning the lotto. In fact throughout history, shit has been very unlucky. Take for instance Cindy Lauper’s comeback tour. In 2004 Cindy Lauper went on a worldwide tour to promote her album of American song standards. While on concert in Massachusetts, she opened her gullet and whaled out a high-note, leaving her trap ready for any bird to take its shot… unfortunately, a seagull passing overhead couldn’t resist her cavernous pie hold and dropped one right in it. Cindy continued to sing. So, if this bird excrement was so lucky, don’t you think Cindy would still be touring or releasing albums 3-years later?? Nope!

I’m sure that if I put more effort into it, I’d find that Saddam Hussein got shit on and stepped on poop in Paris just before his final losing stand.

My story brings me to today. This morning, I took some trash to the dumpster as I do on occasion. I approached the uncovered dumpster, and hurled a sac of refuse into the receptacle. As the bag crashed down into the other trash, 3 seagulls and a crow flew out of the bird buffet, nearly scaring the shit out of me. It’s only 7:40am and I’ve almost soiled myself. As my heart rate slowed down, I walked to my car, only to find that a bird managed to lay some sort of Picasso art form on my rear windshield. It looks like a cross between the eBay giant Cheeto and Leonardo DiVincci’s last supper. I was in shock as there was no way one single bird could have done this. It was just way too big. I’m convinced there’s a bird conspiracy against me. I wiped away as much as I could and proceeded to the driver side, where I found a small brown bird tag left slightly above the handle. Upon further inspection, the bird managed to get its excrement right inside the handle directly on the area I’d normally use to pull my door handle open.

I’m a firm believer in rectifying a situation at its root. My solution is to run for premier of Ontario. My first duty would be to enact a Right to Eat law that would allow people to hunt and eat Geese all city foul without penalty. I’d even create city foul cooking stations where people could BBQ their freshly caught bounty. Not only would my law limit the nuisance birds in the city and suburbs, but it would also help feed some of the under-privileged Ontario constituency.