a somewhat tawdry look at seagull love...

 Ms. Jonathan Livingston Seaquell

My wings were warm, they had touched the sun early that day, as I flew about the park near the ocean. 

A spirit in rest needs to be taken sometimes, so I landed onto the strand, amidst the Styrofoam cups and sticky ice cream wrappers left by the little innocent children.

I picked up a limp condom in my beak, and shook it about with great vigour. Salty spray flew everywhere , and the kittywakes scampered all about the beach, leaving gentle imprints in the sand and broken glass.

There was a bit of kiwi laden hamburger, still in the beautiful bun, underneath the platform that supports Mr. Halleywell’s fruit stand and bait shop. I took this up to the verdant lawn, and gently ate it while young ladies in thongs skated by. They looked so heavenly, I squawked once at them, letting them know that I had seen their camel toe.

With the smell of fish so overpowering, I once again took flight.  Beneath me was the boardwalk, the ocean, the people.  I knew what I needed, and my sharp eyes sought it out.

There he was, a bright white male, proud in form. I alit next to him and presented my rear. Seagull courtship is something that is not talked about in polite society, but can be brutal in a very fun way.

He took off his ComicCon t-shirt, and with a quick movement, slid aside his black speedos, and impaled himself into me. Never have I felt such exquisite pain !

We ran together, me flapping ahead, and fanning his extremities, while he tried to keep up with my furious adour.

When he finally exploded, near the FizzGrill Stand, I launched off like a missile, full of joy and a little bit of soreness.