Saturday May 28

I just got shit on by a bird. Well to be 100% honest I was just the victim of bird diarrhea. Of course Michael - my fabulous gay friend from work screamed so loud I think my mother might have heard him. Literally it rolled down the building and all over my hair, scrunchie, back of my white t-shirt the pocket of my black pants... I just came out of the bathroom after having to wash my hair with that damn industrial pink soap. Thank god for Katie, my coworker who had some leave in conditioner and a brush. My boss and good friend Sharrie might have wet herself laughing at me looking like a drowned rat. Where's my BB gun, I have to go get payback from a seagull. <"Mine?" - line from finding Nemo>
This was no damn small seagull, this was a fucking great auk, an albatross, a mutant great winged bird full of excremement.
Michael is the eternal optomist - as he leads me into the building holding my hand he looks at me and says "you should go play the lottery - that's really good luck" then tries not to vomit at the smaller than a penny sized drop on his bare arm. I might have to hate him as I am covered in green and yellow tinged bird shit and he is calling me "bird cucca girl"