Innocence Lost

A seagull in flight.  Does this image make you think of a graceful, beautiful bird that resides in not only the  oceans but on the land? Do the noises of a seagull comfort you and make you feel warm and fuzzy inside? Can you not wait to run down to the beach and "feed" the seagulls?

If you answered yes to any of the above questions, what the fuck is wrong with you?

Seagulls are dicks. For all intensive purposes they are feather covered penises of the sky that are full of hate and do nothing but eat and steal everything around them, following it up with big malice-filled rounds of shitting on everything they haven't gotten around to eating or stealing. These devil-birds will sometimes even cooperate with each other long enough for the sole purpose of devouring weak/old people and/or small children that they catch off guard.

Example A

 I even heard from some guy that read a book somewhere that your actual odds of survival during an attack from a charging colony (yes, that is what a grouping of these assholes are called) are 3,720 to 1. Good thing I didn't pay enough attention in math class to even know what odds are, otherwise I might very well be dead today. *Gets a gun and shoots math in the face* Never tell me the odds!

Yes, it's true. I was almost another statistic just like millions of other people worldwide who have lost their lunches, lives and wives to due to these gluttonous vermin of the sky. I also now know that due to my amazing rhyming skills I just discovered/showed you I should look into doing black-face  performing a song with Eminem that will inevitably result in my becoming an overnight rap superstar!

Hot tubs filled with champagne, caviar and naked ladies (who are naked because of me being an all around bad ass and not because I paid them) are just around the corner but I digress...

Let me take you back in time with the use of my rape van and 10 hits of LSD Ph.D. in quantum physics and vast knowledge of Eastern Mysticism to the year of 1990, when things were full of joy, wonderment and happiness for this then 6 year old boy...until one tragically life-changing summer day at the Santa Monica beach.

This was the first time I had ever been to the beach. I was initially terrified by the size of the ocean but quickly got over that fear once my dad "proved" I wasn't going to be eaten by it.  I was having one of the best times of my life playing on the shoreline, looking for hermit crabs and chasing these loud, white birds that were everywhere on the beach.  If I knew then what I do now about those hyenas of the beach, I would have brought a hammer and a box of Alka-seltzer.

So here I am, on top of the world, with a newfound love for the beach and all the splendor it had to offer.  Little did I know this feeling of joy would be presented to me, ripped away violently and raped like a Japanese school girl in tentacle porn right before my very eyes in just a few moments.

I purchased a delicious Hot Dog on a Stick, (a corn dog for those of you not from the West Coast area) took a bite and then proceeded to sit down so I could enjoy my meal while waiting for my parents to get back. I heard some children playing off to my right and turned my head to look, failing to take notice of the fact that I had sat just a few feet away from a grouping of the devil birds.

I had just started thinking about getting up to go play with the other kids, when all of the sudden there was an tugging on my corn dog and before I had enough time to realize what was happening it was gone.  I whipped my head around to see what had happened and was brought face to face with the seagull who stole my food and my innocence, standing there looking me dead in the eye with three of his asshole friends.

I reached out to try and grab it back but the bird and his pals were practically frothing at the mouth for the chance to dine on some human flesh.  Two of them bit me with their razor sharp beaks nearly severing my hand, while the other two fought over my precious Hot Dog on a Stick.  I cried out and this seemed to only put them into more of a blood frenzy, prompting them to squawk their banshee wails while devouring my food in seconds flat.

If I could recreate the scene it would look like this.

Bob the hobo was just trying to get enough change so he could eat a cup of noodles and have a 40 oz malt beverage. What he got was a one way ticket to hell due to a fatal case of avian disembowelment. The only reason I made it away with my life is because Bob unwillingly gave up his.  Thanks Bob! I would have let somebody know you were dead but they ate your whole body and lit the place on fire.

Even though the thought of that horrific scene still stays with me like a bad case of crabs, one positive change did occur from it. The day that the seagulls traumatized me as a boy, was the day that I became a man. You bastard birds took out a part of my soul and replaced it with a fiery hatred for your species. I plan on finding each and every one of you assholes and harvesting enough feathers to make pillows for the entire world.

See you soon devil birds!

If you don't keep reading my blog this could happen to you or someone you love instead of people you don't know or care about. Consider yourself warned!