Two turtle doves? That’s what I get for the second day of Christmas? Thanks, but you can keep them.
Why doves? What’s the big deal with doves? They’re not exactly the monarchy of the bird community. Really they’re just bleached pigeons. And nobody cares about pigeons. Well, maybe Mike Tyson cares about pigeons but I’d be willing to bet he drinks out of a sippy cup and needs to be changed twice a day. Not exactly a role model.
They’re even in the Bible. I’m not sure whom the dove folk hired to handle their marketing campaign but team seagull could take a few notes from their progress. Nobody’s getting a seagull on any day of Christmas. Just doves.
And twelve days? Really? Chanukah can’t even compete with that. Hell, the chosen people gave up after a solid eight. And I doubt if there is a single turtle dove in any of their festive songs.
Now that I think about it… there are a whole lot of birds gifted during “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” You have swans, doves, geese, hens, a calling bird (whatever the hell that is), a partridge and a pear tree. And they’re not even the weirdest of the gifts. Do I really need nine ladies dancing? Are they clothed? Should I tip? And what’s with the maids-a-milking? There better be a cow somewhere in the mix. I’d sure hate to think they’re milking each other. That’s not merry.
Then we have the drummers and the pipers. I didn’t ask for a marching band. That’s a lot of noise for a Christmas gift. And I think one of the birds pooped on the sofa. I can’t tell if it’s geese, dove, hen, or whatever but it stinks. I’d ask one of the maids to clean it up but they’re all covered in milk. The strippers haven’t taken a break yet and I’m fresh out of singles. And I think one of them is a thief because I’m down to three golden rings. I’m pretty sure there were five when we started.
Although it could have been on of the lords-a-leaping folk. Those guys are a little flighty if you ask me. No man should ever wear that much spandex. And can someone please water the pear tree?
By the way I’m returning the calling birds. Or setting them free. Either way it was a shitty gift. Next year you’re getting a list.