I was sittng on the plane last night on my merry way to Omaha and I started thinking about a story that my neice read to me. It was about a pigeon that was talking to a baby duck about finding a hot dog. I remember thinking that it was a really stupid story, but Emily liked it, so I figured I'd let her finish. As it ends up, the pigeon shared his hot dog. I found this totally unbelievable, due to the nature of pigeons. Pigeons, being the cutthroat bastards that they are, would never share a hot dog. In fact, if it is a New York pigeon, that baby duck might find it's ass stabbed just for fucking with him. Nevertheless, I though about getting a kids' story together myself, but good sense made me abandon it. This strip explains why. I find myself in goddamned Omaha again tonight. I was stuck at a bank until the late afternoon. I'm working on three hours of sleep and five Perkins pancakes. It's time for me to lose conciousness.
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