This is why I’m afraid I no longer refer to these vastly flocked-up interlopers as “Canadian,” for doubtful they’ve revisited their namesake haunts in years. No, having seen their likes as far south as Georgia and Alabama into the steamy swelter of August, I now refer to them as, “Pan-American Pillow Stuffers.” I guess Disney’s Tennessee Birdwalk thingy went way too far over these past five-and-a-half decades (although they certainly forgot to sport their dirty underwear).
But, one wonders, do the buzzards still return to Hinkley Ridge, Ohio? There’s certainly way more of them these days spiraling above Baltimore and D.C. Thankfully, they do seem to be a tad more discreet with their fecal fallout than their downy brethren! God knows we’ve got enough of some other Washington dreck dropping in round these parts nowadays.
I think it’s even worse. I think they are genuinely completely clueless. Maybe I should be flying a pirate flag to disorient them and maybe snap them out of their golf trance.
As a Professional Privateer, I always have a few on-hand I can send you–Or just say the word, and those crooked stick users in their funny plaid and pastel outfits are history.
That’s a generous offer, thank you. I used to run into a guy named Pirate Bob on the Huron River in the Ann Arbor area. He also flew a pirate flag. Could be bad for me since I really will board your boat and capture galley slaves…or stop and do something crazy with golfers.
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