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Dear Seagulls

9 Mar

Dear Seagulls,

First of all, welcome to the neighborhood. I’m not sure what brought you here considering the ocean is about 2 and a half hours away and the harbor is 15 minutes south. We have the Chesapeake Bay nearby, too, which seems like it would be your jam. Everyone needs a change, though, I guess, and perhaps you’ve discovered Baltimore City dumpsters (fine cuisine, I agree).

In my opinion, it seems like living closer to the water would be a far better choice for seagulls. Don’t get me wrong, guys, I don’t mind if you live here, but there are laws about noise and public defecating by which all people must adhere, and you aren’t above these rules. I’m aware you are birds and perhaps Title 5 Nuisance Control doesn’t apply…but still–you should follow the rules too so we can make the neighborhood a great place for everyone.

My biggest issue is with your shrill, rich repertoire of gull calls that resound throughout the neighborhood specifically during sleeping hours. What could you possibly be discussing so loudly that early in the morning? Is this a personal thing? Are you trying to disturb my slumber on purpose? If so, that isn’t very nice. I didn’t do anything to you guys. Please don’t do that.

The other significant concern here is all that delectable dumpster food is giving you the runny poops, and I see you’ve been using my car as a toilet. There aren’t any power lines or trees located directly above the area where I park, so basically, you are putting in work to poop directly on my vehicle. You know what? I think you seagulls are dicks. Yeah, that’s right, I said it. Seagulls are disrespectful, dick birds.

Look at this wise guy

Given the fierce community opposition (yes, there are others who agree), I’m asking you to reconsider your bold move into the city. My house and car are not a beach, picnic grounds, or parking lot. My house is not a marshy hummocks dream home for your colony. It’s not even my dream home, and I get to live inside it.

Honestly, if I were a seagull, I’d want nothing more than to be my raucous and competitive self a little closer to a beach. I cannot force you to move out, but think of all the stray boardwalk french fries you will miss this summer. So many french fries! And think of the never-ending marine invertebrate feasts! Imagine all the squabbling you could do at sunset on the docks of the bay! Guys, come on, this is a no-brainer.

Think it over and let me know your decision. I’m positive this matter can be solved amicably and no further action will need to be taken. Thank you for your consideration.

Sincerely,

Lauren Ann

Thoughts From a Drunk Girl…Ok, Woman…Pt. 2

21 Oct

Have there really only been two of these? Probably not, but who am I to question my drunk titles? I have some things to say because these are the things I’m thinking:

  1. When did I become a woman? God, that’s weird.
  2. There’s a mouse in my kitchen right now. I don’t want to have to go back in because I don’t want to make eye contact with him because then I’ll have to keep him and name him something lame because that’s what I do. Oh god, I’m out of wine….Stilwell! His name shall be Stilwell.
  3. I don’t write as much anymore because my entire life has changed and I barely identify with and have time for that side of me. Weird, right? I miss this part of me the most. It will be back. I swear to god. Oh wait, here it is.
  4. I still like farts even though I’m 31, but I will say they are most appreciated when comedically timed and not happening in front of a fan.
  5. Everyone has said I would want kids someday. They weren’t wrong. Thanks, aging and maternal instincts or body clock, or whatever. We’re all getting older and we all are going to die someday. Deal with it. Sorry about that.
  6. I actually enjoy giving candy to kids on Halloween now. I used to be so cynical about that before. I even like dressing as a Disney princess to make them happy. WHAT!?
  7. Getting older also means being an adult about other things–like facing the past. Fuck you past, you don’t know me. I mean, thanks for making me the me I am now, or whatever, but otherwise? Go away.
  8. Wait, back to being a mom. I think I would do the weirdest stuff. I would google, like, “how to mom.” Many years from now, my son will find this blog and be like “WHAT THE HELL, MOM?” and I’ll shrug and be like:
  9. 1017152306b_HDR

 

  1.  Also, what should his name be? Stilwell? Also, yaaaa I don’t know why the list just restarted. Just ignore it. Like I said, I’m drunk.
  2. Stilwell. God, that’s such a terrible name. All I can think of is that dick kid from “A League of Their Own.” Remember that? If anyone wants to drink wine with me and cry themselves into a wine coma with me while watching that movie, I’m available on most nights. I prefer a Friday night though because my face gets all puffy when I cry now though because I’m 90.
  3. His name….his name….something classic.
  4. What am I talking about?
  5. You know what I love? Candy. Fucking candy is so good.
  6. Not actually fucking the candy though, that’s weird. I guess properly it would be, “Candy is so fucking good.”  Anyway.
  7. Guys? I’m drunk. Drunk skunk. Lol that sounds like Russian Rocky and Bullwinkle lady. “Drunk like skunk.”
  8. I DONT KNOW WHY THIS NUMBERED LIST RESTARTED IN NUMBERS. I WASN’T DONE.
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