I did not realize how many birding books were sold every year. I thought, “At most the nebulous group who enjoys standing around in nature looking through binoculars buys one or two books in their lifetime.” Then, at my mind-numbing job, I put hundreds of birding field guides onto the virtual shelves. I came back the next day and POOF! All the copies were gone. The stack of Bibles I stowed next to those field guides was still there, but not a single birding book to behold.
If a book about flying feather dusters can outsell the most famous science-fiction novel of all time, why would I not jump on the bandwagon and cash in? I am almost positive this pandering to an old fad will draw in readers, who will then stay because they will fall in love with my sharp wit and naughty ideals. Without further ado, except for the announcement of there being no further ado, which really makes that cliche segue an oxymoron… so with some small further ado about the absurdity of there not being any further ado, I present:
The Deviants’ Guide to Birding
Yep, that’s a bird. A mother-fucking bastard of one too. Will hunt down a baby to eat the small one’s toes. Seen it happen. And they shit everywhere.
Okay, that is not a bird. That is an Easter Cheep which someone painted up and put on a stick to look like a bird. Notice how glossy the eye looks. Totally fake.
This is a bird again. Total bad-ass at playing “King of the Rock.” Has been known to cheat a little, but who can blame it? I mean, that is just a little bird going up against his two buddies, Ling and Chien-Po and possibly Mulan, if she was not afraid they would see her girly bits if she got out of the river. Okay, I am being told that I am confusing this bird with a little referenced Disney character. Moving on.
Hmmm… this is a tough one. I mean, there is a beak and pretty fancy plumage… but I am not usually aroused by a picture of a bird. Hold on one second, I might need to call in an expert.
<five minutes later>
My three year old nephew says this is not a bird. He says it is a pretty girl. She is not prettier than his mom though. Yea, right… she is totally hotter than your mom. Some expert. Go back to playing with sidewalk chalk, little man.
This is a bird. But it barely qualifies as a bird. I mean, aren’t these just slightly bigger mosquitoes which happen to also have feathers? We swat the insects, but put out feeders for the feathered cousin… lame, America.
Oh, now this is a bird I hate. This ass-munch started making chirping noises when my Girlfriend and I were having sex on top of a picnic table in a city park. I mean, even the camera crew filming our lovemaking/Thailand porn were pissed off by this wannabe Frank Sinatra impersonator. I could barely concentrate on my Girlfriend’s lanky and athletic legs wrapped around my waist.
I am just kidding. That never happened. I mean the bird did not make noises during production. Our porn went off without a hitch.
That is not a bird. It is just a waffle. Who is choosing these photographs? Is he or she not taking this seriously?
A bird called a woodcock. Seriously.
Bird, and possible disguise for a pedophile looking for kids at a West Virginia carnival.
Not a bird. Possible alien life form.
Still not a bird.
Not even close to a bird, but I am aroused again.
I am beginning to think asking for pictures of birds from my social media network was a bad idea. But hey, we are deviants after all.
If you have a bird picture you would like added to this field guide, please send me a link at my new email address, dedicated solely to this blog. Or feel free to leave a comment with a link, or any additional information you would like added to the field guide.