They shag each other all year round, but who has ever seen a wood pigeon nest or, young?
They seem to propagate in secret, then sit on top of your chimney screaming croo croooooo croo croo-croo down into the fireplace all day just to drive you insane.
First to the bird table, the uncultured bastards with no table manners scatter bread all over the place. Last year I outsmarted them by buying meal worms for the song birds that stay in Britain all winter, which they didn’t like. This year they’re eating them anyway just to piss me off.
One of the smartarses got a bit too cocky though, whilst laughing at me through the window, a sparrow hawk had him.
I can however recommend several of them baked, with mashed spuds and mushroom stuffing. Get the boot in first before they develop a taste for human flesh.
Nominated by: Duke of Cuntshire