Bryan and the Sexually Confused Hawk

        Today's story is especially weird because it's 100% true. In fact, if I didn't have my digital camera along with me for the ride, I bet none of you bastards would believe me. Trust me, it sounds very made up.
         Yesterday morning I awoke, bright and early, to start another day of staring at a computer screen in my underwear. I wanted to open the third floor balcony door to let in some cool air, and as I stepped onto my tiny balcony, I saw two yellow eyes focus in on me.
          It was a hawk, sitting on my balcony's railing, only 2 feet away from me. If I had put out my hand, I could have touched him. Or had my hand clawed off. He was looking at me curiously, but he wasn't moving. Just watching me. Now that I was face to face with a large, dangerous bird of prey, I did what any senseless idiot would do.
          I grabbed my digital camera.

         This hawk (which I should mention, is bigger than my dog), had no interest in leaving my balcony. He just wanted to sit there and look at me. He seemed happy. Except when the cat walked by. Then he'd look at her like this...

          I've seen angry black girls that couldn't cop a stare like that. Anyways, I made sure the cat stayed FAR away from the balcony, before her fat little ass became his next meal.
         Afterwards, I went back to the computer and googled hawks to see what I could find about my new peeping tom of a friend... Imagine my surprise when I found a website that says you should never, I mean NEVER look them in the eyes. This means a test of dominance, and if they feel challenged, they'll fly in and peck your face off. Well, my face, dumb as it may be, was still intact, and I was looking him in the eyes constantly. And he was looking back at me. Quite happily.

         I kept going back out to see him. Soon, things got interesting. As in, suddenly his head starts jerking back and forth, like my cat does when she's hawking up a hairball (pun completely intended). The hawk pukes dead animal parts ALL over the balcony, and then just resumes looking at me.

What the fuck is this? A liver? A spleen?

       Oh! I think. It all makes sense now! He must be sick! I went back to the computer and searched for what may have been the dumbest thing I've ever entered into Google: "Can hawks puke?" Imagine my surprise, yet again, when I found that hawks don't puke, but they do regurgitate food like this for their newborn babies... or... when they're trying to display an act of courtship.
        That's right, the hawk was hitting on me. I don't know at what point during the hour long staring contest he finally decided he wanted to take me out to dinner and a movie, but the moment he did, he threw up a shitload of dead mice to win over my affections. I can only imagine that thought process...

         Not the best way I've ever been asked out, but honestly, not the worst.
         After finding out this wonderful revelation, I went back out one more time to look at him. And then, as if this whole puking mouse parts all over my balcony thing wasn't enough, my new suitor had one last surprise left in store for me. Those of you who know about my asshole neighbors (See Meet the Neighbors! on the righthand side if you're unfamiliar with the jackassery I'm surrounded by on a daily basis) know that I live near some very stupid, very ignorant people. Namely, this guy.

          What does he have to do with this? Well, the hawk, after hanging out with me for 2+ hours, decided it was time to finally hit the road and fly back home.

        And so he hopped off of my balcony, flew to my asshole neighbor's balcony... and stopped to take the biggest, nastiest shit I've ever seen, all over the neighbor's new fancy deck furniture. I mean, it just exploded EVERYWHERE, like a damn paint bomb. And then... the hawk flew off. It was pure magic. Suddenly, I believe in karma. Think I'm making this up?

       To add to the hilarity, asshole neighbor and his asshole family are out of town, so the mess continues to sink in further and his house currently smells, literally, like shit. I can hardly wait until he gets home to see it. I imagine I'll know the very moment, because it'll probably be framed with a loud, girly shriek.
        And the moment it happens, I'm going to laugh myself into a state of mental retardation.
        What a fucking day.

Stay classy, friends,
Bryan

Mood: Ridiculously happy
Beer: A 12 pack should do
Shower: Is that a pair of yellow eyes outside my bathroom window...?