A bird pooped on me last night. I was just going for a nice and relaxing run on the trail by my office, and all of sudden, i feel something on my arm. Low and behold, its POOP. The poopatrater didn't stick around either, denying me any retaliation.
Naturally i did what any reasonable headed person would do, and i moved to the side of the trail to calmly clean up the mess and deal with the situation.
I'm just kidding, i started screaming and maniacally ran around looking for something to get the poop off with. I grabbed some leaves to try and wipe it off, but not only were the leaves i grabbed wet, moldy, and bug infested, but they also just smeared the poop around rather than remove it. They also contaminated my skin with about 10 million germs, and possibly leprosy. All this is in addition to the fact that i am covered in poop. And i am in the middle of a trail, at least a mile from my car, but i have no choice but to persevere and run back to my car, covered in poop and leprosy. And maybe the bubonic plague.
By the time i got back to my car, the poop remnants had been permeating my skin for about 15 minutes, and had stained my arm! WHAT THE HELL are these birds eating??? Not keeping a soap ration in my car (a FWP that has now been remedied) I was left with no choice but to get in my car and drive home with poop on my arm. I got home and retold the heartbreaking tale to Matt, who laughed in my face.
He also snapped this picture of the poop stain:
It doesn't look like much (actually, it looks like a bruise) But this is also after being wiped off! It's like that birds poop tattooed my arm.
The moral of the story is that I hate everything.