REALITY: Fast Flying Things

Gosh darn.  Goll dang.  Golly gee. Crap.  There’s a bird in my shop.  Just when I got it heated up nicely I have to leave the door wide open and hope he flies out.  In the meantime, I’ve had to cover all the artwork and samples and equipment quickly so I could cower back in my corner with a paper on my head like the girly-girl I can become at the swoosh of a wing overhead, the hop of a frog, the leap of a grasshopper.

I hate fast flying jumping things.

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