I always thought crows, ravens, and other carrion birds were cool (as did any teenager with too much black eyeliner and a copy of The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe). It wasn’t until I moved to Delaware, though, that I fully realized how awesome they could be.
Picture traffic, backed up for blocks, because of what appears to be a black plastic bag perched on a dead skunk. People honk, inch forward like they’re prepared to grind this strange tableau into gritty street pizza, but it doesn’t move. Then, the bag turns out to be this:
“I invite you to count the number of fucks that I give, sir. This will not take long.”