Ravens

The ravens here are worse than seagulls. They roost like vultures in the McDonald’s parking lot waiting for someone to drop a French fry or at least look away so they can swoop down and claim an unsuspecting McChicken “sammich”. They’re bloated on leftovers and not afraid of people. The other day I was in a mall parking lot and one cawed at me from five feet away, perched on a pickup bed. I’m told they’ll sometimes open mail boxes and leave the mail strewn all over the street; no doubt looking to steal social security checks. Filthy beggars! I’d shoot one and stuff it for Thanksgiving if I didn’t think it would take my gun and come after me.