Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Mr. Blue Jay

You stumbled around hurt. I watched you tenderly. Eventually, it was the back of a shovel. Your neck was broken. What was I to do, pop pocorn and watch you die slowly? Bang! All over, nighty night.

The hole was deep for such a small creature. But, deep holes are more fitting for reverence than shallow graves. Mr. Blue Jay, I miss your squeaks and flutters. You were beautiful, but damn, you don't get the concept of glass! Stupid bird.

I left a cairn to mark your resting spot as a gesture of rememberance. Please don't give me avian flu. The shovel was for your own good. *Aaaaaaaaaaachooooooooooooo!* Shit!

11 comments:

Logophile said...

Poor blue jay,
poor Grunt,
poor shovel.

Its been nice knowing you, Grunty.
Are you going to pick out your grave stone ahead of time?

The Grunt said...

My tombstone will read as the famous song "Mary Had a Little Lamb": "Grunty was a manly man, manly man, manly man. Grunty was a manly man, his seed was widely sown."

I like my epitath to be confusing and true.

Logophile said...

I dunno man, seems like using the tune Mary Had a Little Lamb is a little, um...GAY!!
How about this:
There once was man known as Grunt
Renown for many a hair-brained stunt.
He smacked a jay in the head
And now he is dead.
Served him right, blood-thirst c**t!

goldennib said...

Is it cruel to be kind or kind to be cruel? I forget. I'm grieve for your trama.

You two should write obituaries.

vera said...

pml. well done logo! i have the perfect coloured marble for that.
a cat i had when i was a kid knocked the shyte out of a bird and i was told to "put it out of it's misery". i couldn't do it. my backdoor neighbour was out in his yard, he was in the same year as me at school, and i asked him if he would do it. w/o hesitation is met the same fate as your bluejay. i wonder, today, what he has in his freezer. :\

Mayden's Voyage said...

Here's a morbid tip, specially for a girl who can not wield a shovel with the quick deadly accuracy of sir Grunt here...

Start the engine of your car/truck. Gently (with gloves on!) cradle the bird in your hands, place his face directly in the deadly flow of exhaust fumes, in a moment or 2, he will sleep eternal. A box or bag will work equally well.

Do not inhale the fumes yourself...

vera said...

on a side note...
I want my epitaph to read:
BRB

Scott said...

Oh man, that sucks that you had to do that Grunt. You are right though, it was best for the animal.

Scott

The Grunt said...

Add "AFK" to my epitath. Also, I want my little masoleum to be a hangout for teenagers kind of like the Snake King's. I would love to watch them make out and stuff.

vera said...

speaking of animals... i was stopped in traffic today for this dude that was herding a mother duck and her ducklings across the road... how cute is that????

Güggs said...

clever post. poor bird.

[whatever happened to the avian flu? i haven't heard much of it lately in the news. thanks for keeping it alive, grunt.]