Hello, my name is Carl, and I hate birds

Hate is a strong word. I try not to use it. In this case though I feel it might not be strong enough. I really can't stand them.

Remember in that episode of Seinfeld where the pigeons wouldn't move away from George? He would step on them or run them over, but no matter what they wouldn't move away from him. I have that same sort of thing. Only they tend to attack me. If there is a goose whose path I have to cross, there is no doubt that f-in goose is going to try and attack me.

You want further proof that the feelings between birds and myself is mutual? Last week while driving home, I had my elbow out the car window. I was on a strip of road that is covered by trees sitting at a stop light. A bird nails my shoulder with droppings. The only way the bird could have hit me any more would have been to come in at a low angle and then pull up at the last minute and nail me through the window (just like Luke Skywalker did to the Death Star).

Stinkin birds... I have the last laugh though. Tonight is BBQ chicken night.