Stood by the pond outside work on yet another miserable day, I was as surprised as anyone to see half a pigeon fall from the sky. The rear half, I believe, but I cannot be sure as it had been mauled by crows. In the spirit of this speedy lump of formerly sentient being, I am announcing that every January 22nd from here on out is Hurtling Carrion Day, the most sacred of holiday of People Who Are Me.
How do you plan on celebrating Hurtling Carrion Day in years to come?
2 comments:
I intend to celebrate by collecting and maiming small woodland creatures which I shall then pelt you with from a safe distance.
I should stress that it really ought to be different from a regular day.
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