Photo Op: Downtown Pigeons Get Crazy On

pigeons getting crazy on
Title pretty much says it all. 4th and Hill, 16 December 2005. Pigeons running rampant. Call them what you will: Filthy disease-carrying pests, swooping, waddling, loud, obnoxious flying rats. I may have once considered buying Terror Eyes to get them off my balcony, but I maintain they’re nowhere near as bad as gulls, which are downright bullies and thieves. I’ve seen gulls tear people’s beach bags apart. I’ve seen them eat and steal more food than any other type of bird. True story from my beach-dwelling days: I felt a hunger inside. Went to Tommy’s at Pico and Lincoln, Santa Monica. Ordered up some chili fries. You’ll recall Tommy’s is a good eight blocks from the shore, but like the homeless waifs that seem drawn to this particular corner, the gulls always know where food can be found. I placed my fries on a table. Turned around and walked literally two feet for a napkin and hot pepper. Turned back around to witness a gull with his beak buried. Buried, buried, in my fries. Beak rooting and digging into the chili, totally engrossed, totally having his way with my his food. Fuck you, gull. Fuck you all. These downtown pigeons are ok in my book.

Bonus Pigeons: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven.