To start with, the Ibis. An import from west of the Blue Mountains I am told - forced to move to the city due to drought. Well, the drought is over, so how about fucking off home and get your stupid bills out of our rubbish bins.
How about a flock of seagulls (and if you remember the band, you are very old). What is this - the cricket? And not a chip in sight for them to fight over.
A flying rat. The pigeons in town seem to be getting fatter and slower. There is a street that I ride down each morning that I am going to rename the "Pigeon Alleyway of Death". It is the haunt of sluggish, barely mobile pigeons that refuse to get out of my way as I hurtle towards them at slightly over walking pace. If I arrive at work covered in blood, it will be thanks to me running over a pigeon. You might think pigeons are squishy, but I am talking about pigeons the size of wombats - and they will easily send a rider over the handlebars.
If you see someone feeding breadcrumbs to pigeons, feel free to stick a plastic bag over their head.
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