Being a bird can be tough. I know, I see you guys out there struggling in the world every day. I'm here to help.
The bird that looks exactly like you and flies very quickly straight into your face is not, actually, the mirror universe version of you. This is something called a "reflection" in the window and when you fly at it enough times your beak goes sideways and you die. Also, holy shit, is it loud when you bang into the window. Please stop doing that.
Here is a picture of a tree:
Here is a picture of a basketball hoop:
They are not the same thing. There are a lot of ways to tell that they are not the same thing, but one that might be important for you, as a bird, is that the tree is surrounded by soft grass and dirt, and the basketball hoop is surrounded by pavement.
When you push your ugly baby out of a tree it might live. When you push your ugly baby out of a basketball hoop you ruin a game of HORSE. Did you not realize you're constantly killing your own children? Fucking obviously not, you big dummy. It's gross.
You've coasted for centuries, but it's time to learn the difference between "a song" and "a noise." A noise is what comes out of an animal. A song is what comes out of a mixing board. When Rick Rubin produces a birdsong record, look me up, until then, if I catch you chirping outside a bar at 4:30 AM you are getting an empty of Keystone thrown at you.
"Really, Holmes!" I dropped into my seat, shocked. "You are remarkably tall! What are you, six foot six? Six foot eight?"
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
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