Posts by Megan Wegan
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The worst part was that it wasn't quite dead.
Yep, been there.
Picture: Petrified girl, holding a massive bird on a shovel, as it sits, clearly hurt, and looks around at her, and she tries desperately to think what to do, because she knows there's no way in hell she can kill it herself.
I still have dreams about that thing looking at me. And a little bit of love for my cat died that day.
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Even these Megan?
I was almost too scared to click on that link. But I trust you, so:
Yes. Even those.
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Mwaahahah, now we know your weakness. Fly my Pretties.
God, it's not the only one, but is the most...obvious. I freak out around sparrows, ffs.
Someone once tried to get me to watch The Birds. I think I lasted about two minutes. And last summer, eating fish and chips at Sumner beach with a friend seemed like an excellent idea, until the seagulls cottoned on.
So, I am all for Colin indulging his natural instincts and culling the creepy little things. (I'm only being slightly sarcastic.)
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Nothing because it is DEAD!! No more chirping,tweeting, oh, guess one doesn't need them in this day an' age. May as well be cat fodder. :)
As someone who is petrified of birds, I would like to give Colin some kind of award.
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Craig: You wouldn't be the first person to say so, nor the first person to appreciate it.
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making a dick-kebab of
That is the phrase of the thread, so far. And that is some stiff competition.
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Oh, here's one. It's not particularly sordid, but right up Emma's alley (as it were).
A few years ago I did a tour of the MCG. On it were a handful of old people, and 2 young men from England. We got talking, enthusing over the fact that we were at the MCG. I was very excited. One of them, Geoff, and I decided that we would sneak off, and find where his seat was going to be for the ODI the next day. Sneaking off was no easy feat, but we managed it, and once we found his seat, um...shenanigans ensued.
The best part? He somehow convinced his friend to swap tickets with me so we could sit together at the England vs Oz game the next day.
Now, Emma, that's a wingman.
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I really am trying to think of a story I can tell. I just can't think of anything that won't...incriminate other people.
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How much time must elapse before an event becomes part of one's sordid past, rather than one's sordid present?
In your case, Tom, about 36 hours.
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The Wellington skaters kept a sense of humour too. Even forty points down Bikkies couldn't help a cheeky wave to a Pirate being sent to the box. And MEOW started dancing with Scheisse Minelli between jams.
There was also some damn impressive trash talking going on in the penalty box, including in the very last jam.