Pigeons really piss me off. I see them all over my campus eating trash, flapping their ugly wings, waddling around like a bunch of retarded penguins, and crapping on the ground. Theyíre not pretty, like some birds. They are a dull, greyish-purplish-pukish-green color, and usually have weird bumps on their beaks and feet. And they donít appear to have any sort of important role in the ëcampus ecosystemí. The only things I see them eat are either discarded bites of food or cigarette butts. And they donít do much of anything except sit around and make stupid noises. Plus, whenever I eat something outside, the little bastards swarm me as if Iím actually going to give them some.

I hate pigeons. I hate everything associated with them. I hate statues because theyíre a breeding ground for birds. I loathe people that feed birds; that only encourages them more. I hate trees because of the huge collection of bird shit under them. And I hate, I HATE Bert from Sesame Street!! Iíd like to shove his god damn bottlecap collection right down his throat! Who does he think he is, huh? What kind of sick man actually BREEDS more pigeons?? That stupid banana-faced freak! If I ever happen to find Sesame Street, Iím gonna pull good ëol "Mr. Baseball Bat" out of the trunk of my car and proceed to beat the ever-loving shit out of Bert. Then Iím gonna kick Ernie in the nuts and roll Oscar the Grouch down a big hill. Weíll see if the Count can count how many broken bones and lacerations I give him (ONE! ONE fractured rib! Ah ha ha!) One more thing: ever notice how much Big Bird looks like a pigeon? Lose a couple hundred pounds and get rid of that obviously fake bleach job, and what do we have? You might think Iím crazy, but he looks too pigeon-like for my comfort. You think you can hide Big Bird? "Oh, Iím gonna dye my feathers and join a kids show! Everyone will love me!" Not me, pal. I see right through your disguise, and Iím coming after you! Some day when you least expect it, youíll be walking across Sesame Street, singing a happy song, and you wonít notice my car bearing down on you from behind. Maybe if Iím lucky Iíll get some of those little kids that always flock around you. And after I plaster you across the bumper of my car, Iím gonna get out and do a victory dance around you before I piss on your twisted, broken body.

Like I was saying, pigeons have been an incredible nuisance to me for most of my life. Then, tonight, while I was walking down the street minding my own business, a bird took a crap on my head. Iím through putting up with pigeonsí bullshit. Itís time for revenge.

One time, I was walking down the sidewalk and one of the filthy creatures was blocking my way. I stopped walking and attempted to stare it down, but it didnít budge. Then, when I told it to get the hell out of my way, it gave me this really cocky look. So I kicked it. That didnít make me feel much better, though. I was hoping for a huge explosion of blood and feathers that would spray all over some preppy girl drinking bottled water. All that happened was the bird gave a pathetic little sound that was a cross between a ëcooí and a ësquawkí as it hopped to one side. I think maybe a feather fell off when it flapped its wings at me defiantly, but that was about it. Nowhere close to satisfaction.

I also thought about holding down a bird and shitting on it. But that would be a lot of work. First of all, even once I caught the bird, I would have to touch it to hold it down, and god knows where that thing has been. Plus, in order to actually crap on it, I would have to place my nuts near the birdís beak and claws. Thatís out of the question.

So here is what I propose: we should capture all the birds we can with nets or something. Then, put them all into a huge metal box that is just barely large enough to cram all the little bastards in. Next, we start feeding the birds chocolate laxatives through small holes in the top of the box. After dropping in a huge amount of laxatives, quickly seal the box leaving only tiny air holes and take it to UPS. Ship it to France.

By the time the box gets there, the birds on top (the ones eating the laxatives) will have definitely died of dehydration from crapping all the water out of their system. The ones directly below them will hopefully have suffocated on the methane fumes from the birds above. The ones on the bottom, if any are still alive, will have a burning hatred for mankind, and will seek revenge on the human race. Then all the French can see how stylish they look when their berets and turtlenecks are coated in droppings and how much they enjoy their croissants and rich sauces when theyíre covered in pigeon crap.

Bon Appetite, assholes!