"It's the end of the world!"

Perhaps it's because the river has become frozen or because it's stormy up north along the coast or because they figure Magdeburg's a great little vacation spot but for some reason my neighborhood has become overrun by seagulls. Big, flappy, nasty, poop filled seagulls. I expect them around the river. They piss me off for stealing the food I'm trying to give to the ducks but I expect it. I don't, however, expect them five blocks up from the river in the center of the city hanging around my apartment building like a pack of drunks that won't leave a party.

I live four floors up from the street and as I stand at the stove (it's right next to the window) I become startled over and over by big ass seagulls swooping quite close to the window as though they're looking for a handout. I'm trying to boil some pasta and suddenly I'm turned into Tippi Hedren in a phone booth and I have the urge to search below for a very fat English man.

And in keeping with that fat English man, if gulls are around can big ass crows be far behind? Not around here, my friends. The seagulls and the crows don't seem to be fond of one another so I'm treated to seeing them sail around each other, a la Jets vs. Sharks, each bird gang trying to take control of the scrap of Brötchen that didn't seem to make it into a trashcan and all I want to do is go to the bakery without one or the other crapping on my shoulders or lunging for my scalp.

It's probably a good idea if I don't attend any children's birthday parties or pick up any kids from school for a few days...