Roamin’ has come and he has gone

So, it’s a Sunday, a gray Sunday here in Brooklyn, feeling bad as the Roman girls are struggling with yet another overcast day threatening rain on a weekend when they’re ‘spoused to be selling the things they make, make with love. Sitting there thinking about all the things I should be doing but, ain’t ‘’cause I am hung over and lazy from the great night we had last night with friends in from Rome and VAG on the turntables.

Lazy Sunday, hanging with the roomie, talkin’ ‘bout things we haven’t talked about yet… His, pals calling him about pills they give to kids because they’re doing just what kids do, spin, run, yell and pull each other’s pants down… frikin’ addies… what are we thinking when we give our kids these things my friends do when they want to do, the do do… Long stories not told here, now, that well makes me quite, well, makes me quite sad.

Metz, Yankees game on… windows are wide open, no screens… conversations, then… BIRD, BIRD, BIRD… BIRD at, 3:00 o’clock, incoming, incoming BIRD!!!!… hands up, protect the face… here it comes… making a bee line for the open windows in the home that is becoming quite a nice home; a home Dylan and I are starting to make comfy; a place where our friends like to come and chill and do the do that we give to our ten year old kids only, because they are acting like ten year old kids; spinning, laughing, running, playing and pulling each other's pants down.

BIRD, BIRD, BIRD in the house!

Hey there BIRD, bird, welcome aboard, we'll assume yer a he as you've showed up in he-ville… Please don’t shit on my clean dishes; my dinner, or Dylan’s bed. Hello there birdie, num nums… I think, we’ll close the windows, keep you safe as you are NOT a black bird, not a brown bird nor a Robin… you’re a powder blue budgie who has somehow managed to escape; escape from someone who has obviously spent some money for you…

If we sent you back into that rain, we figure you would most likely die as the person who bought you, spent that money on you, now, is the only guy who can get you the food and drink you need to survive, well, OK in the bird owner like manner you are familiar with… birdy… I NOW find myself putting posters up in the ‘hood on your behalf.

In coming… BIRD!: is still there this morning, moved from her/his perch in the bookshelf that makes Dylan’s room completely privacy free.. Tweet he said… I’d like food, tweet he said, what the fuck you doing draping all the windows with mean girls so I do not know a way out… Tweet I said back, bitch/bastard I’m not having you fly head first into glass over and over again looking for a way to escape from me... me the guy whose now calling everyone he knows who have birds to advise him on how to keep little Roamin’ alive…

Ya, I called him Roamin’… Buffalo Jen, from Buffalo thought it a good name.

Today, Anthony called me at 2:30pm… A pal of Anthony’s had seen my bulletin posted at the bodega at the corner, and got the word back. It would appear that Roamin’ had left Anthony’s place a week ago… Left from Anthony’s apartment 4 block’s away.. Roamin’ apears to have been a good name indeed. Anthony dropped by, we grabbed Roamin’, put him in a bag and sent him home, or well, back to Anthony's.

Anthony asked if I wanted, 5, 10 bucks or something… the going rate for the return of stupid birds I guess… Forget that! Sure, I coulda bought a burger, or perhaps maybe a drink at the local later, BUT why… from what I’m told a bird in the apartment is good luck.

Roamin’ is home, or, well at least at Anthony's with his six other bird like pals Anthony has hanging around, well, let's hope they're as happy to have him back as I was to have him around last night...

IN COMING!

Roamin’ you are more than welcome, into my window… anytime you like… Roamin’ the bird-dude!