Passing Up Crows

I was walking home the other day – it was dark, but I had an extra plastic bag in my backpack.

(I have a really bizarre assortment of shit that I always have in my backpack. It’s all really super useful all the time though, so whatevs. I’m prepared like that.)

Anyway, what should I find on the footpath, but a pair of crows.

Naturally, all I can think about is how much I WANT TO HAVE QUILLS.

So, being me, I immediately grab my plastic bag and a flashlight and set to see if I can get any useable feathers off these birds.

 

Then I realize that they’re covered in insects already.

And I’m still about a mile and a half from home.

 

Am I willing to carry a bag full of feathers that will be sprouting unknown insects for the next mile and a half?

 

No.

No I am not.

 

Apparently I don’t want quills *that* badly…

 

But I still *really* want quills.

 

Dear Texas,

WHY DO YOU HAVE NO ROADKILL OUTSIDE MY HOUSE. SERIOUSLY. THIS IS *TEXAS*.

THERE SHOULD BE ROADKILL.

 

That is all.

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