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Well crap, another Monday morning. Let’s see, this is supposed to be a big week too. I know I’ve got meetings coming up but I don’t have a clue when and where. I need some bugs or something. What the hell happened to the weekend, a second ago it was Friday afternoon and then there was that party at the Worms Tip, I am never going back there, not ever. Oh my God, did I take home that Brown Thrasher that was hanging around? I did, didn’t I. I did. Man…everyone knows she has mites. I can not believe I did that. That means I’m going to have to sit through another series of insecticide spraying over at the sugar beet field. That stuff gets rid of mites but it can’t be any good for you. I am so stupid. I wonder where Slim Billy, my wing-man is, why didn’t he stop me. I ought a jerk his primaries out I wouldn’t of let him go back to the tree with her. What goods a wing-man if he doesn’t stop you from being stupid. I’ve saved his tail feathers enough times. OK I need to get well, I wonder if there’s any of that fermented hummingbird food left at the Johnson’s feeder, that ought to work. Then I got to find my Daytimer I know I’m going to be late to something. I hate Mondays.