The Universe has a Sense of Humor

I have now been attacked twice outside my house on my way to the L-Train...by birds.

There I am, minding my own business when a little blackbird swooped down by my shoulder. Thought nothing of it so I kept going. Then the bird, again, and a thud against my shoulder as it flew by again. That freaked me out...

...but not as bad as today. Walked out of the house, thought, "Hmmm...wonder if that bird's gonna do that again." Sure enough, flew right by me once. Then again, only this time, right by my head! Always swooping in from behind, too.

What, he can't face me like a man? See how he likes it when I start packing a tennis racket.

Someone at work told me it's a sign. If it is, I don't want to know for what. If kamikaze blackbirds are the universe's way of telling me to shape up and fly right, I don't want to know what it does when it tells you to quit smoking. Does it rain lunchmeat?

If it wants you to stop embezzling money from your company, do pandas come out of your eyes?

Neglecting your bills? How about being run over by a clown car?

I'd hate to even begin to think what offense would get you targeted by an army of Ninja Zombie Doom Nuns.

Or, they say those whom God wants to destroy he first drives mad. Maybe that's it. Some day I'll be found babbling and incoherent, going on about how "The blackbirds made me do it."

"The birds, the birds!"