Bird flu could be a good thing...

I'm standing by this weekend.

Standing by ready to torch my neighbours pigeon coops, I only need just one word from the government, the first government minister who mutters the words "bird flu" and "pigeons" in the same sentence is the only excuse I need, I've been waiting for this moment for four years now.

Our next-door-but-one neighbour is crazy, a first class, qualified, certified nut. In his normal, suburban garden, in this leafy middle class suburb of north Leeds where people get on with their lives quietly and without disturbance to others, this man keeps pigeons in his garden.

Pigeons, flying rats, filthy flying shitting machines that he keeps locked up in sheds, only letting them out to fly about twice a day, their numbers vary but there has never been less than 20 and often more than 40 circling around my house every day, shitting on my house, sitting on my roof shitting on my house, they are a friggin nuisance, and so is he and his rat-faced noisy family.

And he keeps chickens too, and a fucking cockerel that wakes everyone up at 4am during the summer. He also has ducks in his garden - this isn't a big garden we are talking about but he keeps all of these birds penned up in his shit filled garden for fun, spending most of his day walking amongst them talking to them, I tell you, he's a nut, I can hear his friggin ducks quacking now as he feeds them.

The funniest thing by far that happened last summer was when his terrier dog got into his chicken coop and killed three of his avian friends before he could drag it out backwards by its tail, I applauded his dog on that day for its responsible citizenship.

So all I need is one word, one word is all I need, I have kindling wood and accelerant and torches ready for lighting, say the word and I'll be through our hedgerow like a possessed demon, with roast pigeon and duck on the menu tomorrow.