Angry Birds

Scratch the belly, would you...

Oh, how I love holiday weekends. Not only was the weather purrfectly delightful, but without all those people petting me, I finally managed to beat my own personal best score at Angry Birds. I adore slinging avian projectiles. It just seems natural to do on a video game the same thing as in reality. I must admit, I had already refined my technique long before the game came out, so adjusting to the console was easy.

(I am still waiting for the Wii version with live pluggable Bluejays.)

How I love hurling those black birds and watching them explode. It reminds me of fond dreams I've had during Grackle season. And for once, cats aren't blamed when dead birds are found lying around. It's always been the Evil Swine Empire. I kept trying to tell people, but no one listened.

Remember all those birds dropping out of the sky in Arkansas? Evil Swine.

Bird Flu Epidemic?
Pigs trying to distract the media from Swine Flu.

Cause of the dead sparrow I ralphed up on the welcome matt the other day?
Pigs made me eat it.

See...it explains everything. Gotta watch those swines.

In related news, guess what they are selling at the State Fair this year. Conspiracy? You decide.