blanket helicopter of death

there's developed a mosaic of bird shit on my balcony railing of late. the railing was clean enough to eat off of when jean and i moved in 6 weeks ago. i also used to think there was an obligatory peacefulness when a bird landed by my window in my old apartment. now without morning commitments, however, i've been spending much more time in my living room in the morning hours, apparently when birds like to do their deed and within direct line of sight from where their stupid little bird brains are attracted to on the Z shaped corner of the railing.
after i drop jean off at work in the morning, it's a little chilly in the apartment, so i like to sit on the couch to check email and the daily news with perhaps a blanket on the ready. like the cookie monster to a pile of pepperidge farm mint cookies, birds of every fucking genus are drawn to that corner of railing and that corner of railing only with the same dumb expression on their beaked faces: "hello. have i been here before? hello. your herbs look like nest for my disgusting bird babies. hello. hello? have i been here before? hello."
and just as dependable, this is about the time that i fake that im going to lunge towards the pigeon and whatever the red-feathered kind is. sometimes i bang on the window. they never buy it. so i need to resort to the blanket helicopter. i stand up from the couch like an angry senile woman who just caught the damn neighbor kids on my lawn again and i start swinging the blanket around in angry circles over my head as i charge the sliding glass door. they glide non-chalantly down to the next floor's balcony and im left with a shitless balcony for another five minutes before... "hello. have i been here before? hello."
not my proudest moment of funemployment, but a necessary one.