update: the impala dies of shock a hour later and gets eaten by a pack of vultures.

Yes, MLX, everyone's looking for some rest.



Spend all your time waiting for that second chance
For the break that will make it ok
There's always some reason to feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction oh beautiful release
Memories seep from my veins
They may be empty and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight

In the arms of an Angel fly away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here

So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn
There's vultures and thieves at your back
The storm keeps on twisting, you keep on building the lies
That you make up for all that you lack
It don't make no difference, escaping one last time
It's easier to believe
In this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness
That brings me to my knees

In the arms of an Angel far away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
In the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here

You're in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here

not pigeons, just urban vultures folowing a meal around

A vulture picked me up by the hair when I was nine (fortunately, my hair would not support my weight and I only made it about 6 inches off the ground).

Look out jwray! Just found this true fact:


Ravens will eat almost anything, from insects to grass and young birds to sickly lambs. If ever you find a recently dead animal on the moor the chances are the eyes have been pecked out by the 'sheep vultures'.

Remember Hitchcock's "The Birds?" Hmmmm?

Three little words: Eyes. Pecked. Out.

Think I have a solution to these vultures: Westboro Baptist vs. Scientology deathmatch. 1,2,3, go!

So, like spoiled, entitiled little brats, folks on both sides of the same fence around the concentration camp of meaningless blah blah, go back and forth calling names and hurling epithets, ad naseum, while both are starving on the same diet of rehtoric without substance, one that goes from non-nutritive to down-right poisonous, creating robots and putties that reek and swell in the sun.....ready for the buzzards and vultures who really run the planet, who feast on both dark and white meat, as long as its rotten-Americans have no balls, they are pussies in need of dicks, dicks who have never had pussy, and asshloes who keep status quo, by keeping both starved of substance or meaning.......

For some reason this had a bit more visceral effect on me than watching vultures or buzzards-guess it's cause I know that instead of flying away from me if I happened into them, they'd fly AT me! (creepy little bastards!)