Does exactly what it says on the tin. Some of the nonsense contained herein may be very loosely related to The Sisters of Mercy, but I wouldn't bet your PayPal account on it. In keeping with the internet's general theme nothing written here should be taken as Gospel: over three quarters of it is utter gibberish, and most of the forum's denizens haven't spoken to another human being face-to-face for decades. Don't worry your pretty little heads about it. Above all else, remember this: You don't have to stay forever. I will understand.
"And when you start to think about death, you start to think about what's after it. And then you start hoping there is a God. For me, it's a frightening thought to go nowhere".
~ Peter Steele
Brideoffrankenstein wrote:The town I work in has banned people from feeding the pigeons in the churchyard to get them to go away!
Good move,Pigeons=VERMIN!
@Brideoffrankenstein is that The Magic Numbers on your Avitar? .
Being brave is coming home at 2am half drunk, smelling of perfume, climbing into bed, slapping the wife on the arse and saying,"right fatty, you're next!!"
Brideoffrankenstein wrote:The town I work in has banned people from feeding the pigeons in the churchyard to get them to go away!
In Antwerp it's forbidden too, they're a real plague here...
However, mostly the feeders are elderly ladies, and though there are signs hanging all over the town pointing out you can get a €100 fee when feeding them, when you point it out to the police they always say something like 'ah, well, leave them do it, it's all they have'
The worst part about it is they just drop entire breads instead of a couple of crumbs
Obviousman wrote:However, mostly the feeders are elderly ladies, and though there are signs hanging all over the town pointing out you can get a €100 fee when feeding them, when you point it out to the police they always say something like 'ah, well, leave them do it, it's all they have'
The worst part about it is they just drop entire breads instead of a couple of crumbs
I hate to say it, but it is a serious ambition for me to one day BE one of those mad old bird-ladies...
"Tuppence a bag..."
Although I think I might have an eagle.
There's a man with a mullet going mad with a mallet in Millets
Reminds me of a customer one of my colleagues dealt with at work, an elderly lady who felt that women shouldn't work in banks - they should stick to selling things like "apples and sponges".
boudicca wrote:Pigeons are f**king cool, I won't hear a word against them. Seriously, sit and watch one as he's just plodding about, it's good for the soul...
Pigeons are just about the dirtiest animals you can find...
They do nothing but s**t on all out greatest monuments, which causes them to break down sooner (because of the acid in it IIRC)...
Pure dirt, really...
Agreed - flying rats, thats what they are VERMIN
I never talk during music, at least during good music. If one hears bad music, it is one's duty to drown it in conversation.
boudicca wrote:Pigeons are f**king cool, I won't hear a word against them. Seriously, sit and watch one as he's just plodding about, it's good for the soul...
Pigeons are just about the dirtiest animals you can find...
They do nothing but s**t on all out greatest monuments, which causes them to break down sooner (because of the acid in it IIRC)...
Pure dirt, really...
Agreed - flying rats, thats what they are VERMIN
Indeed they are, I always call them the rats of the sky, but I didn't want to use the quote hoping not to connect the rat lovers to the pigeon lovers
pigeons' breast are so very tasty and their bones make fantastic stock! pleebs!
"And when you start to think about death, you start to think about what's after it. And then you start hoping there is a God. For me, it's a frightening thought to go nowhere".
~ Peter Steele
BTW, how the hell did we get from computer desktops to eating flying meat?
"And when you start to think about death, you start to think about what's after it. And then you start hoping there is a God. For me, it's a frightening thought to go nowhere".
~ Peter Steele
Apart from banning pigeon feed in Trafalgar Square they briefly had a sparrowhawk in the area. Unusually for a migrant worker lured into London he found the streets were paved with gold, metaphorically at least.
It was the look on the face of the Japanese (maybe Korean) schoolgirl as the bird she was diligently feeding disappeared in a whirlwind of talon and startled feather. Her parents looked most disapproving, especially at the odd Englishman laughing so hard he almost fell into a fountain.
andymackem wrote:Apart from banning pigeon feed in Trafalgar Square they briefly had a sparrowhawk in the area. Unusually for a migrant worker lured into London he found the streets were paved with gold, metaphorically at least.
It was the look on the face of the Japanese (maybe Korean) schoolgirl as the bird she was diligently feeding disappeared in a whirlwind of talon and startled feather. Her parents looked most disapproving, especially at the odd Englishman laughing so hard he almost fell into a fountain.
A year or so ago I saw a face-off in my back garden between a woodpigeon (who I have named Quentin but that's a whole 'nother story as I can see I won't find a sympathetic audience here! ) and a rather young sparrowhawk.
Quentin puffed up his feathers to make himself twice his normal size, and jumped at the so-called "predator". Mr. Hawk duly shat himself and disappeared from the garden, never to be seen again. He knew he'd met his match!
DON'T MESS!
There's a man with a mullet going mad with a mallet in Millets
andymackem wrote:Apart from banning pigeon feed in Trafalgar Square they briefly had a sparrowhawk in the area. Unusually for a migrant worker lured into London he found the streets were paved with gold, metaphorically at least.
It was the look on the face of the Japanese (maybe Korean) schoolgirl as the bird she was diligently feeding disappeared in a whirlwind of talon and startled feather. Her parents looked most disapproving, especially at the odd Englishman laughing so hard he almost fell into a fountain.
A year or so ago I saw a face-off in my back garden between a woodpigeon (who I have named Quentin but that's a whole 'nother story as I can see I won't find a sympathetic audience here! ) and a rather young sparrowhawk.
Quentin puffed up his feathers to make himself twice his normal size, and jumped at the so-called "predator". Mr. Hawk duly shat himself and disappeared from the garden, never to be seen again. He knew he'd met his match!
DON'T MESS!
i'ld be scared of anything called Quentin
Well I was handsome and I was strong
And I knew the words to every song.
"Did my singing please you?"
"No! The words you sang were wrong!"
@ emwk - I have given all the pigeons in my back garden similarly lovely names.
Quentin is the Alpha male, his "bird" is Felicity... they can often be seen canoodling on a branch together...
Terrence is the Beta male, consort Penelope...
And at the bottom of the pile we have Boris and Doris.
I f**king maintain that pigeons are ace.
There's a man with a mullet going mad with a mallet in Millets