There’s a Great Tit in our garden somewhere who is driving me to despair.
He’s obviously desperate for a mate because he’s spending every waking hour screaming like a squeaky gate. Bloody Spring with it’s bloody natural urges and it’s bloody need for procreation. Ten past five he started this morning and he’s still going strong now at gone half past eight.
I love birds, but If he doesn’t get laid soon I’m going to go outside with a hammer and beat the noisy little shit to death.
RC 4-5-13
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