crackerwax

Swans are bastards. Cantankerous, curvy necked, good for nothing bastards. Think of the one fact you know about swans. Think about it now. Go on.

Thinking of it? Good. Right, I bet the fact you’re thinking of is that a swan can break a man’s arm with one flap of its wing. I’m right aren’t I? Thought so. What does that tell us about swans? I’ll tell you what it tells us, it tells us that swans have built up a reputation for being hard. These feathery bastards are laughing at us!

The only person allowed to eat swan in the UK is the Queen, have you seen her munching down on a swan burger recently? No me neither. They’ve even got to the Queen! If she can’t enjoy swan kebab meat and chips who can?

The problem is that not only is the swan the vicious, beady eyed, psychopath of the avian world, it compounds that by being moody with it. The phrase ‘cob on’, meaning someone who’s in a mood, is directly related to the fact that the name for an adult male swan is Cob!

I say it’s time to act, I’ve had enough of these bastards, it’s time we brought them down a peg or two. Next time you see a swan flick it the V sign or give it a bit of verbal (’Fuck off back to Cygnusland you fluffy white fucker!’ is one I use). They’ve got the ponds now, how long before they take the streets?