12C and rain. I have a hoody on as I type. The pigeons that sit on the wires outside my window and stare at the back of my hood (I know they do; I have caught them doing it) and wish they were dry too do not unnerve me even if there are far more of them than my army of one. I fear not for my will is strong and my is arsenal armed to the teeth. They shan't dare attack. They shall sit soaked and shivering upon my wires to the world and I shall ne'er accommodate those rats with wings on any level. Flea infested vile vermin.

Besides, I sold my truck and I park my car in the garage so WTF are they gonna do? Shit on my driveway? I wear shoes. HA!

I wonder what they taste like. Damp, I expect.

Hey, A! Enjoy!

Hey, BWL! I cooked my fav last night. Bacon On a Stick. Well, it was a fork... a forked stick... made of steel. Anyway, here is the recipe. Ingredients : fried bacon and beer. Directions : fork the fried bacon into your mouth with beer to wash it down. It's an old family recipe so keep it to yourself.