On Monday, Virgodog and I drove up to the Catskills to attend a friend's wedding. On the way, we drove through Woodstock, and as we traveled along the main drag we heard a tremendous THUMP.
A bird hit our windshield. We killed a bird in Woodstock! On the 40th anniversary of the legendary rock festival.
The wedding was lovely and wonderful, and you will be happy to know the avian community has had their revenge. Upon the removal of its cover this afternoon, my down comforter EXPLODED.
Feathers everywhere. Revenge is theirs.