YesBut birds the word - Part 1

For YesBut’s Image posted on 6th August 2007, ozlady 's suggestion the caption -

“Having slayed the dreaded Backpacker, the pigeon sauntered across the railway station, disappearing into the flock of docile pigeons like the trained assassin he was.”

The photo suggested to me the following story:

Do you mind, I say do you mind, who do you think you are, take that camera out of my face! Typical human, taking my picture without a by your leave. I’m not one of your common a garden pigeons you know, I’ve got Royal blood flowing through my veins, oh yes. My Great, great, great, great, (well lots of greats) Grandfather was a war hero. He won the Second World War for the British, got himself a medal to prove it. After the war he went to live in Buckingham Palace, treated like a Lord he was.

Yes, our family was setup for life. Then my Great, great, great (you know what I mean), Grandmother got herself mixed up with this bad lot from Trafalgar Square - real street trash. Well next thing she knows, she’s up the duff - as they say “with eggs“. Got thrown out of the big house at the end of the Mall and finished up being a homeless single parent.

But I still go back to visit the old ancestral home. Last time for the Queens birthday. There they all were on the balcony waiting for the flypast, when I flew over. Saw a photo in the papers, of Prince Phillip pointing up at the planes flying over. Rubbish, he was pointing at me and telling Liz, “watch out for that bird he’ll shit on anybody”. He got no class, as if I would poop on Her Majesty.

I’ve not always lived in a railway station. Lived at some high class addresses I have. Well not so much at, more on the windowsills. For a time I lived at Harrods store. The things I’ve seen through Mohamed Al-Fayed’s office, you wouldn’t believe. But I’m no stoolpigeon, in any case one tweet and I’d finish up sold in the Harrods Food Hall as the innards to a pigeon pie. You know, he don’t get on with Prince Philip, thinks he arranged for Diana and Dody to be murdered.

Yes, the things I’ve seen through windows. There was the time I lived, I think it was in Eaton Square, real posh place, they had servants, butler, housemaid and a cook. Don’t know what the butler saw, but I saw what the butler did. Must admire someone with that much stamina; to be able to keep not only the Mistress, but the young mistress and the housemaid happy.

Look I’m talking too much here, might say something I ort not to.

To be continued tomorrow - Bookmark this page.