How many times have you been shit on by a bird? At least once, right? I’ve been dive-crapped twice that I can remember: Once by a crow — and just for future reference, being crapped on by a crow was like being hit with both barrels of a shotgun loaded with rock salt — and today. Didn’t see the bird, but judging by the mouse-sized turd it dumped on me, it must have been about the size of a sparrow.

Given the number of birds that fly over my head every single time I venture outside, twice is an amazingly low number of occurrences, don’t you think? And yet, every time it happens, I’m surprised by it. And at least a little bit ticked off. Just what did he mean by dumping on me! The nerve!