Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Festival of dead bird.

Somehow this is supposed to excite.
What the hell is that? No wonder Inka isn't all that enthusiastic about the "Festival of Dead Bird," er, I mean Thanksgiving.

I mean, normally Inka's all tripped out over fowl. Staring out the windows. Crouched down low and ready to pounce on whatever capon comes near.
Man, was she POed when Abe added little sticky doo-hickies to the glass so our fine feathered friends wouldn't sacrifice themselves to the window gods. Livid. I mean, making noise like there was no tomorrow.

Apparently, Inka's like, "Why do they put up these damn window doo-hickies, but buy some carcass instead?"

Pearl was like, "Clearly, you've never had THANKS-GIVING. This is the one time a year we get turkey bits. Don't mess this up, biatch!"

Then Pearl lunged for Inka's carotid artery, and Inka went flying down the hallway like some dove in a hawk's crosshairs.
Damn, girls. Settle.

I don't know what Inka's hoping for. Something leaner?
Anyway... Happy Thanksgiving. Maybe Inka and Pearl will be thankful. I know I am. Turkey bits for everyone!

PS. I seems Pearl and Inka have made up already. I tell you. They are cray cray.

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