To Kill A Woodpecker

Guess what?

I HAVEN'T SLEPT IN FOUR F**KING NIGHTS!!!! FOUR F**KING NIGHTS, PEOPLE!!!! AHHHHHH!!!!!

There is a woodpecker that's been pecking away at the drainpipe that runs along the side of my house just outside my bedroom window. F**K!!!!!!!!!! I am not happy, not happy at all, and I hate that damn bird with all of my f**king might right now. My roommate thinks it's funny because he can't hear a damn thing from his room. Nope, only I've had to listen to that freakin' bird beating it's f**cking love drum (explained below, just stay with me) at 4:30am. As if I want to get up at the crack of piss-crow with the little pecker. STOP IT!!!!!!

Anyway, this morning, while I lay in bed thinking about how to kill the damn bird, my roommate came to tell me that he figured out why it's been pecking away (at my sanity).

Roomie: (knocking on my bedroom door)

Me: Yeah, come in.

Roomie: (entering) Hey, so, the woodpecker is still with us.

Me: No shit, Sherlock. I can hear the little bastard.

Roomie: Oh, yeah, he's right by your window. I can’t hear him, sorry.

Me: Sorry, my a**. What the h*ll do you want, really?

Roomie: I know why he's doing it. I Googled it.

Me: (if looks could kill, the guy would be dead, the smarta** little sh*t) Please, do tell, since you're sleeping so well.

Roomie: He's looking for a mate.

Me: So, what, am I supposed to care about his lack of lovers? Get the h*ll out of here.

Roomie: He's mating. It's cute, don’t you think?

Me: Ahhhhh!!!!!!!!!! You insane idiot!!!!! Tomorrow morning, I'm going to open my window & start throwing all the knives from my $1000 knife set at that bird until I hit him dead on his bird face!! Do you hear me??

Roomie: You can't do that. Birds are protected animals. JB, you need to calm down.

Me: Protected??? Calm down???

Roomie: You can't just start throwing knives out the window. What about the neighbors?

Me: The neighbors?? What about my sleep, health, sanity, you freakin' moron!! Screw them! Think of yourself, or I’ll throw you outside.

Roomie: I emailed the lady at the newspaper.

Me: (did he just say newspaper?) What? Why? So, she can bore the bird to death with the local news? Or, maybe she plans to beat him to death with the paper?

Roomie: No, she's a bird expert. She told me the reasons.

Me: Seriously, dude, go f**k yourself and her too. Get rid of that bird, or I’m going Rambo 1, 2 and 3 on all your a**es!

Roomie: Maybe the bird will find a mate before that happens. Besides, I like my a** & I need it for mating. (he starts laughing)

Me: (giggling at how totally stupid funny he just was) Well, woodpecker lover, the little sh*t has 24-hours to get his pecking packed and gone with his new mate, or else....

Roomie: JB, you can't kill it.

Me: Why, are you going to stop me?

Roomie: I’ll figure something out, I swear to you. I know when you say something, you’ll do it. Just please don't, OK?

Me: Like I said, you got 24 hours, or I'm coming to you at 4:30am and banging up on your bedroom window, naked, with my box right in full view. Are you getting a visual, hmm??

Roomie: Oh, for the love of God, not your box!

Me: Yeah, the box... all Brazilianed (is that even a word? whatever...) and nice just for you. Are you still liking that bird now? 24 hours... that’s what you have.

Back downstairs he went and got on the phone with God knows who to figure out what to do about the woodpecker. Meanwhile, what do I hear as I'm rolling out of bed to make my way to the bathroom? Pecking. PECKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm telling you, people, that bird is dead. D-E-A-D... dead.

JB