HuskyRider
Well-known member
Copy from another forum..funny true story
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I was attacked today by two... turkeys. No, not jive turkeys, real-life-honest-to-God turkeys.
In Walnut Creek at the corner of Via Monte and Ygnacio Valley, there are two beautiful toms that live in front of this office building. I see them there every day. I've walked past these two F'ers which I'll call Tom and Jake many times without incident. About a month ago while driving home, I saw a scooter pull out of a driveway and cruise down Via Monte towards the corner at Ygnacio. These two potential pot-pies break into a full on sprint down the sidewalk as the scooter passes by. Not thinking they're chasing the pansy on the scooter, I'm thinking I'm going to see these two majestic birds whom Ben Franklin himself lobbied to be our national symbol, get flattened like a Looney Toon by some passing big rig as they try and cross Ygnacio. Wrong. They get to the corner and start attacking the "guy" on the scooter. He's rolling forward, backward, honking his horn, everything he can think of to try and spook them, but they're right there on him like white on rice. Eventually he gets a break in traffic and speeds off. The entire time I'm laughing my arse off.
Fast forward to today and now it's my turn. I'm on the bike and I pass the corner of the building these two F'ers live at. I'm whistling Dixie to myself because it's such a beautiful day, I haven't a care in the world and I'm looking forward to my ride home through Marsh Creek Rd. Out of the corner of my eye, I spy Tom and Jake. They spotted me. I turned to look at them and we locked eyes for what seemed an eternity. They start running along the sidewalk in full stride. Tom was sprinting like he was returning a punt down the sidelines with Jake running interference. Instantly I thought to myself. F@CK ME!
Sure as shizitz, it's me they're after. I stop at the red light and that's when the melee began. Tom is clearly the aggressor as he did most of the ish talking and pecking. Jake, I believe, was either there for moral support or turkeys fight like bad guys in Kung Fu movies. One attacks and when he gets his butt kicked, it's the other one's turn to fight. Either way, they run up on me all swoll up, gobbling like crazy and now I'm the douche honking my horn, rolling forward and backward to try and get away from the lightning fast jabs that Tom is throwing. None of my threatening sounds are deterring them. The horn on my Honda is clearly ineffective as it is blasting away in a frequency too high for turkeys, or Asian drivers for that matter, to hear.
Then I remember all of the liberal teachings I received in the California public education system. I'll try and reason with them. I politely tell them in soft soothing tones that they have mistaken me for a threat and I mean them no harm. I explain to them that I don't believe in violence and would like to have a real dialogue with them where we can share our feelings. Their response? A swift peck to the knee cap. These two ninjas cannot be reasoned with. Jake is pacing back and forth,seemingly goading on Tom. Tom is pecking at my leg like a woodpecker going to town on a Japanese Maple. That's when I decide to fight back. I give Tom all 6.5 inches of my size 9 Chuck Taylors. Tom is stunned by my Thor like blow, but he quickly recovers his wits and counters my move with a Chuck Norris like roundhouse kick. Clearly I'm outmatched as my Converse All-Stars are blunt and inflict no damage whereas Tom's razor like talons have been sharpened by knife maker Gil Hibben himself. Tom is attacking with a series of pecks and kicks and I'm keeping him at bay as best I can with my leg while trying not to loose my balance and topple over with my 800 pound sofa on wheels pinning me to the asphalt. That's when things escalated. Jake, clearly frustrated by being Tom's padawan for far too long decides to join in the fight. He runs to the other side of the bike. F@CK! I've been out flanked.
Clearly these are no normal turkeys as this is a coordinated attack. General Patton would have been proud of the pincer maneuver these two strategic geniuses have made. There I am, straddling the bike, fighting on two fronts, defending myself from certain death. Thoughts of my wife and child are running through my head. Who will care for them after I have been pecked to death by the beaks of these teufelgeflügel? Just as I thought all hope was lost, the light miraculously turned green and I cheezed it out of there as fast as all 55 horsepower could take me. As I sped away, I'm certain Tom yelled an ethnic slur at me. Perhaps this was a hate crime. In reality, I'll never know their true motive. What I do know is, I'm alive. Thank God all-mighty, I'm alive.
................................................................................................
I was attacked today by two... turkeys. No, not jive turkeys, real-life-honest-to-God turkeys.
In Walnut Creek at the corner of Via Monte and Ygnacio Valley, there are two beautiful toms that live in front of this office building. I see them there every day. I've walked past these two F'ers which I'll call Tom and Jake many times without incident. About a month ago while driving home, I saw a scooter pull out of a driveway and cruise down Via Monte towards the corner at Ygnacio. These two potential pot-pies break into a full on sprint down the sidewalk as the scooter passes by. Not thinking they're chasing the pansy on the scooter, I'm thinking I'm going to see these two majestic birds whom Ben Franklin himself lobbied to be our national symbol, get flattened like a Looney Toon by some passing big rig as they try and cross Ygnacio. Wrong. They get to the corner and start attacking the "guy" on the scooter. He's rolling forward, backward, honking his horn, everything he can think of to try and spook them, but they're right there on him like white on rice. Eventually he gets a break in traffic and speeds off. The entire time I'm laughing my arse off.
Fast forward to today and now it's my turn. I'm on the bike and I pass the corner of the building these two F'ers live at. I'm whistling Dixie to myself because it's such a beautiful day, I haven't a care in the world and I'm looking forward to my ride home through Marsh Creek Rd. Out of the corner of my eye, I spy Tom and Jake. They spotted me. I turned to look at them and we locked eyes for what seemed an eternity. They start running along the sidewalk in full stride. Tom was sprinting like he was returning a punt down the sidelines with Jake running interference. Instantly I thought to myself. F@CK ME!
Sure as shizitz, it's me they're after. I stop at the red light and that's when the melee began. Tom is clearly the aggressor as he did most of the ish talking and pecking. Jake, I believe, was either there for moral support or turkeys fight like bad guys in Kung Fu movies. One attacks and when he gets his butt kicked, it's the other one's turn to fight. Either way, they run up on me all swoll up, gobbling like crazy and now I'm the douche honking my horn, rolling forward and backward to try and get away from the lightning fast jabs that Tom is throwing. None of my threatening sounds are deterring them. The horn on my Honda is clearly ineffective as it is blasting away in a frequency too high for turkeys, or Asian drivers for that matter, to hear.
Then I remember all of the liberal teachings I received in the California public education system. I'll try and reason with them. I politely tell them in soft soothing tones that they have mistaken me for a threat and I mean them no harm. I explain to them that I don't believe in violence and would like to have a real dialogue with them where we can share our feelings. Their response? A swift peck to the knee cap. These two ninjas cannot be reasoned with. Jake is pacing back and forth,seemingly goading on Tom. Tom is pecking at my leg like a woodpecker going to town on a Japanese Maple. That's when I decide to fight back. I give Tom all 6.5 inches of my size 9 Chuck Taylors. Tom is stunned by my Thor like blow, but he quickly recovers his wits and counters my move with a Chuck Norris like roundhouse kick. Clearly I'm outmatched as my Converse All-Stars are blunt and inflict no damage whereas Tom's razor like talons have been sharpened by knife maker Gil Hibben himself. Tom is attacking with a series of pecks and kicks and I'm keeping him at bay as best I can with my leg while trying not to loose my balance and topple over with my 800 pound sofa on wheels pinning me to the asphalt. That's when things escalated. Jake, clearly frustrated by being Tom's padawan for far too long decides to join in the fight. He runs to the other side of the bike. F@CK! I've been out flanked.
Clearly these are no normal turkeys as this is a coordinated attack. General Patton would have been proud of the pincer maneuver these two strategic geniuses have made. There I am, straddling the bike, fighting on two fronts, defending myself from certain death. Thoughts of my wife and child are running through my head. Who will care for them after I have been pecked to death by the beaks of these teufelgeflügel? Just as I thought all hope was lost, the light miraculously turned green and I cheezed it out of there as fast as all 55 horsepower could take me. As I sped away, I'm certain Tom yelled an ethnic slur at me. Perhaps this was a hate crime. In reality, I'll never know their true motive. What I do know is, I'm alive. Thank God all-mighty, I'm alive.
