So this happened:
And I felt bad that I’d been shoving mail onto this bird like he was some sort of Hogwarts owl but I felt even worse a few minutes ago when I was staring into the mailbox and saying, “Hello? Are you hungry? Do you need help?” without realizing that a neighbor was creeping up behind me and thinking I was insane. So I explained that I was not talking to the mailbox and that there was a bird squatter in there and she was like, “Oh yeah, that nest has been there for years. Every time the mail carrier pulls it out the birds rebuild it so now it’s just a bird house.” And I felt very happy to know that the bird could easily get out and was safe from predators but also pretty fucking unobservant because we’ve lived her for years and apparently I’ve been shoving bills on these birds forever.
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And on an entirely different subject, it’s time for the Sunday wrap-up!
Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):
Shit-you-may-or-may-not-want-to-see:
- Admittedly, it was not well thought out.
- Relatable.
- I’m moving to Australia and filling parking lots with airconditioned cars with no doors.
- Go read this.
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