HB COLD

Today I made a decision. Provided good health and longevity allow it, I have decided to dedicate my retirement years to the arbitrary and ruthless assassination of seagulls. It will require skill, stealth and a merciless heart. Skill, because they are moving targets after all. Stealth, because I do believe it is highly illegal to stalk the streets or beaches with a gun - even an air pistol - and go around picking off the white birds, that only a few months ago I thought of quite fondly, but have in that time turned my heart mercilessly against them. They screech with such an insane, maddening intensity that is worse than any fingernail can do to any chalkboard. They are screaming right now and I am honestly having bloodthirsty thoughts.

Whatever happened to the sound of seagulls that I remembered? Sounds that I used to think I would like to have as an alarm clock? I think the city happened to them. These seagulls are fat, lazy and complain all day long for people to feed them. I remember last fall I thought it would be cute to feed a seagull my left over smoked fish. Now I would only do so with poisoned interlaced with the meat. If anyone can get that song reference you will win nothing as I am in no position whatsoever to give you anything, but still I would be impressed.