Bastards.
A huge flock of starlings has taken up residence in the village. There must be several thousand of them and they make a hell of a noise. When they swarm over they block out the sun.
This morning they all gathered in a couple of big trees in our neighbours' garden. I was watching them when they all took off at once and, in some sort of synchronised routine, every single one of them shat at the same time. All over me

I looked like those statues you see covered in pigeon shit.

I had to have a shower.
