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Today is National American Eagle day. American eagles, commonly called bald eagles, are a symbol of the United States of America. And, you must admit, it is not absbird to say that it’s a damn fine looking creature, in addition to having a pretty high badassery score.
Sorry… that news might have been starling: I did not mean for you to finch like that! Maybe it should dove been said differently to try to sparrow the fright. But, I’m not falcon around today… I don’t think any reader is gullible enough to miss that today is… BIRD PUN DAY!
This is the column you’ll crow about… you’ll be raven about this one for days! You might even tweet it to your friends, or it might beakome a favorite, even if it’s just hawking my work. It might be sort of ostrich, I know… but owl be damned if winging it today doesn’t put another feather in my cap. (Okay, I don’t really want to risk being damned… instead, let osprey… maybe I’ll even get ‘saved enough’ to be taken when the Raptor happens?)
Nest up: More puns! Did you hear about the giant seabirds? At first, they were all engaged… then they became all betrothed! Okay… that one might have been a little tough to swallow, but who needs THAT albatross hanging around their neck?
Is it a fowl ball if you just barely hit the ball with your bat… or if the ball hits a bat?!? Okay… that was weak. Bats are not birds. Everybody knows that. Bats are made of freakin’ wood. Geesh. Even a baseball rookery knows that.
“Behold the mighty pelican…
Holds more in his mouth than his belly can.
I just don’t know how the helican.”
I used to have a keet. Then I got another. So I had pair o’ keets. But then I got ANOTHER one… and now it’s not a parrot all.
A few years ago, while traveling through Arizona, I saw a cheap motel in Flagstaff… one with huge neon signs indicating its name. Only, the “o” had burned out from the main sign, leaving the impression that this cheap, hourly-rate-motel, was called the, “Pink Flaming Hotel.”
My editor doesn’t always let me go all nuts with the puns… but I’m glad that today eaglet me. No need for me to go on shrike! He really let me flock around today, instead of pigeonholing me as “just” a road reporter. Wait… dang it. I was supposed to do a road condition report? I totally forgot… what a birdbrain.
Okay, let’s not let the pen lose… watch the penguin! Roads are easy… no ice, no snow, no fog, no wind. Oh… no emus. Light fog/undercast around 2,500 feet and below… like every day lately. Watch out for jaywalkers, and definitely watch out for that one cuckoo tweaker (pretty sure she’s a heron user) who likes to squawk around 40th and Waterman (near the petrel station) nearly naked—as a jaybird—while playing chicken with the traffic. No, seriously… watch out for that one. Even a swift tern could result in disaster there wren she’s playing in traffic.
Please note that I intend to be given full credit for being very classy today and NOT making adolescent jokes about the following bird names: Boobys (although, I know the singular is “booby,” I really don’t know what the correct word is for a pair of them… I need to keep more abreast of these things), bushtit (I REALLY need a lot of credit for not using that one in some hilarious, but possibly vulgar way), woodpecker, pewee, titmouse, or sapsucker. I also took flock off the list. I want to class the joint up, see… ibis thinking that I should have no egrets about it.
Finally, please allow me to speak with condor: Have a stellar day!