Bread Explodes Ducks

Hey guys!

When I was a tiny human, the park nearest to my home was known for one thing– the Thug Duck.

He was this clean, normal looking duck until you got really close. If you weren’t close enough to the pond to threaten him, you could lure him to the shore with bread crumbs. Slowly, he’d come a little bit closer.

At the top of his little duck head, all of his feathers were up turned– almost as if he were trying to mimic the Elvis pompadour or a feathery afro.

He walked with such a heavy limp, but that wasn’t quite normal either. It was like watching Long John Silver from the Muppet’s Treasure Island. The character literally did not have a leg, and would have swing his peg back and forth to maneuver himself across a cramped ship kitchen. This duck walked just like that.

He’d swing his leg forward with every step and we were never sure whether to pity him… or whether he was a duck with swagger. Honestly, we felt like it would have been rude to ask.

He had this look in his eye, too. Like if you got too close, he’d rip your leg off. You would think, Oh ducks can’t do that. Tiny beak. large human leg. Math. But you’d be wrong– and if you looked this duck in the eye, you’d know that.

More recently though, at this local park, a friend and I were walking around a pond and kept seeing these strange signs everywhere:

 

If you came to this blog expecting high art, you have another thing coming, bro.

So, apparently, we can’t feed ducks bread anymore. Neither of us really knew why. There were dispensers all around the pond full of “duck food”– which really just looked like dog food.

Occasionally one would look at us with a glimmer of hope, only to see us grab stuff from the dispenser. The ducks just waddled off sadly when we tried to offer them food.

Meanwhile, the geese had a ravenous look in their eye. They looked like they wanted to goose us to death– then again, that’s how the geese always look.

After some highly intellectual deductions, my friend and I decided that the sign meant:

I imagine that it would explode in a ball of flame and gas, but maybe it’d explode into a mess of candy and confetti. I don’t know. I’ve never exploded a duck before.

Really, that was the only logical conclusion.

Unfortunately, I haven’t seen the Thug Duck since I was in high school…but I’m certain he went out in a blaze of glory.

In other news, I’ve finished listening to “The Ocean At the End of the Lane”, written and narrated by Neil Gaiman. He is a fantastic narrator, but you can read my full review on goodreads if you are so inclined.

I’m now listening to “Guilty Pleasures” by Laurell K. Hamilton. It was free through my public library, and I’ve heard great things about it as an urban fantasy novel with vampires in it. It sounded like a good read.

… but y’all. I cannot get five minutes into it without giggling.

I think something in me is broken. Well, sort of. Maybe.

It is narrated by a lady who has this tendency to make the guy voices sound– oh my goodness, they sound hilarious. Plus, my natural immaturity comes out when I have a story like this one read out loud… I don’t know if I’ll end up finishing it.

I work in disability insurance, guys. If I start giggling in my cubicle, people will think I’ve gone mad.