NOTICE-THIS IS AN EQUAL OPPORTUNITY TONGUE-IN-CHEEK BLOG.
We are under assault...from the air. We are too far inland to be assaulted from the sea. For sure the people out here on the plain Plains, aren't all that pissed at BP and fellow criminals, methinks. But that is another post.
When I say we, I mean my family and I...not the cornyhuskeys around us.
Here then, is the tale. We have a persistent Red-headed Woodpecker in our midst. A pecking fool. He isn't pecking at our favorite oak, or cottonwood, or even at the old left over wooden clothesline post out in the backyard. Nope, this numb nuts of a bird is pecking at the metal bathroom poopy exhaust gas vent on the roof (an aside: for those of you who do not know, when one poops in one's abode, methane gas accumulates. It has to have an escape route, or...it will blow your ferking house to the proverbial smithereens...eventually. Ergo, the vent. Don't believe me? Climb up on your roof, plug up that metal vent sticking up there, and give it a couple of days...see what happens. OK, I made this shit up, and I maaaaaaay be a bit off with the explosiveness of fart gases...and I may not know what the deuce I talking about...but...I DID get your attention...did I not? So do not take me to task, you two Florida take-his-ass-to-task peckerwoods).
This damned bird keeps coming back and pecking at the top of the vent. I run outside, yell and clap my hands, and the damned thing flys away...to my neighbor's tree about twenty feet away. I can see the little fucker looking at me...waiting for me to go away. Sure enough, I go inside...15 minutes later, metallica ratatatat reverbererates through out the house...especially loud in the loo (being the Anglophiles that we are, we call the crapper in our house, the loo...just for our British friend, mo).
My wife, being much more cerebral than I , not to mention less violent, Googled woodpeckers on your roof, or some such, and found that this behavior is a woodpecker's obsession. When it decides where it wants to make a nest, it doesn't matter if it is made of wood, or steel, or your head...it just does it...pecks, that is. And it will never give up until it pecks a hole large enough for the nest.
Anyway, this wood/metal/head pecker is pissing me off. It doesn't seem to understand that I really, really, really, liked the Woody Woodpecker cartoons as a kid. Woody Woodpecker was cool, he would never have pulled this shit...on a fan.
In my youth, I would have shot his ass...no problemo. But, I am a man who since my 20s has eschewed violence as a solution for pecker problems. So this peckerwood is safe...for now. What he doesn't know is, probably the gaseousness will eventually take care of the problem for me...or, I am going to put out a contract on him, which will absovle me of direct involvement in his demise. My friend Vinny's cousin has a pellet gun, and knows how to use it. Give it up, or ciao, peckerwood. Bella.