National Pigeon Appreciation Day 2014
It’s that time of year again. National Pigeon Appreciation Day is tomorrow – Friday June 13th. Unlucky for some, but not for us. Bring it on.
We didn’t do much last year as we’d only just moved to the seaside but, back in 2012, celebrations in London rocked the big one. Ended up with a massive rave-up in Trafalgar Square. Even Club Foot Earl was giving it large on the dance floor and, thanks to Fat Nige finding a puddle of beer, everyone got suitably twatted. Then there was the fly-by led by Roger from Lewisham. Genius. We were all quite emotional by that point I seem to remember.
This year, however, I’m a bit concerned at the organisation, or lack of. In London we spent months in planning, but when I went down to see what the committee sorting out this year’s Brighton celebrations were up to, this is what I found:
It’s the one day we pigeons get to celebrate being pigeons, and this lot looked like they couldn’t organise a crumb up in a bakery. I offered to help telling them I’d been heavily involved in previous years in London, but they didn’t seem to be interested. All they wanted to do was organise some more meetings. Load of bollocks considering the fucking day is tomorrow.
Then, even worse, I went down to the seafront and found this lot. They’ve been booked by the ‘committee’ to do some ‘Buddhist formation mime’. WTF? Formation mime?
I asked for a demonstration, and this is what they did:
Oooo. Walking around. That’s good. Not.
Is that it? Really?
This is their leader Jerryvasanano (his Buddhist name, apparently!), grabbing five minutes mid-rehearsal meditation:
And this is what he said when he stopped meditating and I asked him what the hell was going on:
“It’s a demonstration of the struggles facing pigeons in everyday life in order to help us gain insights to end our suffering through the elimination of ignorance and craving by way of understanding and seeing of dependent origination with the ultimate goal of attainment of the sublime state of nirvana”.
May as well have been talking fucking Dutch. All they did was walk about a bit, stand there, then walk about a bit. Fucking stupid and the kind of thing that makes me want to move back to London immediately. Give me a mass piss up any day.
So, I’m taking it upon myself to make sure those Brighton pigeons who want to party hard, can. I’m on it. Venue tbc. Watch this space.
As for last Saturday’s meeting to discuss the issues surrounding the number of seagulls – see last post – we decided to postpone it due to Kemptown Carnival and the fact most pigeons would be going to that for some fine Shit or Miss action, and it was fine let me tell you. Mart scored a direct hit on some Spaniard’s burrito. Pissed ourselves. Looked like a creamy topping.
As for the tour of Gerald’s art, seeing as I’ve got my work cut out organising a half decent Pigeon Appreciation Day party, I’m going to meet Monty next week. Can’t cover it all and, far as I’m concerned, partying like a pro takes precedence every time.
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