doolittle

UPDATE ON GERALD AND THE CROW SITUATION: Things have escalated. I repeat. THINGS HAVE FUCKING ESCALATED. For those of you just joining us, yesterday I accidentally entered into diplomatic relations with a gang of crows after Gerald stole my good spoon. Well. This morning I walked outside and Gerald was waiting for me. Alone. Standing directly in the middle of my driveway. No screaming. No hopping around. Just staring at me like a tiny feathered loan shark who had come to collect. I said, “Morning, Gerald.” He tilted his head. I gave him a walnut. He did not eat it. Instead, this motherfucker picked it up, walked three steps to the left, PUT IT DOWN, and stared at me again. Message received. The offering was insufficient. So I went back inside and got more walnuts. When I returned… THERE WERE NINE CROWS. Nine. Yesterday there were seven. Gerald is fucking recruiting. And they were arranged in a SEMICIRCLE. This isn’t a bird friendship anymore. I’m funding organized crime. I distributed the walnuts because apparently I pay protection money now. Everything seemed fine until one of the smaller crows tried taking two. Gerald immediately screamed at him. The little one dropped the second walnut. I have accidentally created an economy. Gerald controls distribution. There’s a hierarchy. There are consequences. I’m pretty sure I witnessed a disciplinary hearing before breakfast. Then Gerald flew away. I thought we were done. WE WERE NOT DONE. Twenty minutes later I looked outside and there was something sitting where Gerald had been standing. A bottle cap. A shiny rock. And… MY FUCKING SPOON. HE RETURNED THE SPOON. Ladies and gentlemen. I believe we have successfully negotiated a trade agreement. Unfortunately, there is now a crow sitting on my mailbox. So I still cannot get my fucking mail. I tried approaching. He puffed up. I backed away. That mailbox belongs to the organization now. At this point I’m just a tenant. Anyway, Gerald has officially been promoted to General Gerald, Commander of the Driveway, First of His Name, Keeper of the Good Spoon, Lord of the Power Line, Collector of Walnuts, and Regional Manager of Whatever The Fuck Is Happening Here. I’ll keep everyone updated. But if I suddenly stop posting… Gerald found out I told you.