Tuesday, 27 July 2010
This gull watched me eat a sausage roll.
It paced menacingly back and forth never letting the ever diminishing food out of it's steely glare.
Once I half-heartedly shouted 'shooo' at it but it took absolutely no notice of me at all and continued pacing.
Round the corner from where I live the residents, widows who, having fed their husbands to death, replaced them with small dogs and started the process all over again, have banded together to eradicate the 'Seagull Menace' (© Bognor Regis Observer) from their guano encrusted enclave demanding that the local council sends some poor sod round to shoot them all.
Now it occurs to me that if one chooses to retire to the seaside one should accept that the seagull is part of the whole experience.
I wonder what seagull tastes like?