Birds are evil.

In a rare display of political correctness that I am sure you will appreciate, I have decided to use the biological name of the bird in question, because its common name might offend some (And I won't call you lily livered, far be it from me to make that judgement, but the rest of the world is less kind) people, owing to the unfortunate fact that it rhymes with what some might consider a VERY offensive word.

The bird, therefore, will henceforth be referred to only by its biological name, Aix Sponsa, so as not to cause mass offence.

Oh, and for those of you who are still wondering what that offensive word is, it's fuck.

And if you still don't know what bird I'm talking about, here's a picture.

Click here for a pic of an Aix Sponsa, that I DIDN'T take. Click where I say click here, if my template doesn't show that in a different color.

And to any kindergartners reading this, here's a helpful hint: They quack.

I hope that helps. And if you're a kindergartner reading this, I'll say this. You're smart. I couldn't read big words when I was three, although I did often allow myself to be seen with books titled 'Schopenhauer's shopping hours' and 'Wit against ein Wittgenstein'. This helped contribute to the idea that perhaps I was not so dull-witted after all. Also, if you are a kindergartner, please go away. Come back when you're old enough to shave. Or discover the wonderful world of Tampax. Because you shouldn't be reading some of this. Really.

And I won't be judgemental of any kindergartner who can't name this bird. Because I remember being acutely embarrassed about not knowing the difference between a tiger and a lion. I would walk around in mortal fear of anyone ever finding out my dirty little secret. This scared me more than the prospect of confronting a real tiger or lion. And people say three year olds don't have problems. Apparently, the fear of not being able to distinguish a lion from a tiger is quite common. My favorite ex suffered from this too. He'd vouch for it if not for the fact that he's sworn off my blog because he absolutely hates my new template.

So yes, back to the Aix Sponsa. I spent the better part of my afternoon trying to photograph it. It wasn't my easiest subject, let me tell you. It showed what can only be interpreted as the Aix Sponsa equivalent of tons of crappy ass attitude. It didn't have its agent present, so obviously, I considered it fair game. But it kept giving me that 'you'll be hearing from my lawyers' look.

Look, don't get me wrong. I like Aix Sponsa as a species, in general, despite the very annoying quack. But this one wasn't particularly good looking. I mean, it was more or less average. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to warrant that kind of attitude!

This wouldn't have been a big problem if I had had a decent camera. When I say decent, I merely mean a camera with the ability to capture a picture of say, a bird, without having the bird co-operate by flapping its wings in a very photographically appealing manner, and doing so at a distance of under four centimeters from the camera. And the trouble with most birds is that they don't do that. Some stupid bullshit about the survival instinct, apparently.

Obviously it's because they're stupid. They're bird brains. Get it? Bird brains. Hahah!

Anyway, Aix Sponsa and I had a conversation. I know Aix Sponsae don't speak English, not the ones I know anyway. But we still conversed using sign language. Okay, Ameslan, if you must know.

Look, Aix Sponsa, I said. I think you're quite charming. I'd like to take a picture of you, and then I'll be on my way.

Rude quack.

Aix, (because the first name approach sometimes works) you're really being quite paranoid. I don't normally discuss my food habits with birds, but I'm vegetarian. You really have nothing to fear.

Another rude quack, and the bloody thing swam across the pond.

So I walked over to the other side, and tried to reason with it.

Look, this camera. This not gun. I good. I no shoot.

Nothing.

I then considered doing an Aix Sponsa call, but decided that I'd just look stupid, so I opted for the more socially acceptable whistle instead. So I whistled at Aix.

Angry look from Aix. Aix is now swimming in circles, a safe distance away from me, in that typical, pointless, Aix fashion.

I attempt to take a picture, but alas, Aix is still too far. Aix decides to swim to the other side, again. So I walk around. Again.

It's clear to me by now that Aix is thoroughly enjoying this little game. We do this thing a few more times where he swims across to the other side of the pond, and I walk around it.

Then finally, in a dazzling show of cunning, I cleverly pretend to give up. I lie down on the grass at the edge of the pond, and wave a white piece of paper at Aix. I know he's watching. I resolutely resolve to stay absolutely still. And I manage it for fifteen full minutes. And finally, success. He's swimming towards me. I flash out my camera.

And the little bastard flies off before I can click.

Yes, I totally got fucked by an Aix Sponsa.