I used to live down the road from the city center. Literally down the road. You could see the city center from my front porch. Given that Adelaide's CBD is ringed by parklands, this should give you some idea of how close I was. I also lived on a main road, one of the main drags into the city.

Mum was managing Fear and Loathing at the time, and there was a gig that night with The Mark of Cain, so she went to the gig. I had been allowed to have a housewarming party for my school friends. We tended to keep muso's and school kiddies separate.

So mum was at this gig. And my friend Greg who practically lived in my house was there. I was dating a guy named Roger at the time, who we used to call Roger the Warbling Fruitpicker, but that's another story.

So, as is always the case, there are heaps of gatecrashers at my party. All of whom are drugging on. I was unamused. B.c the more...conservative of my friends were hiding in my bedroom. So about 11pm, some guy I did not know came running in from the back yard screaming "THE COPS ARE HERE, HIDE YOUR DRUGS!" A lot of speed got flushed down the toilet. My how I laughed.

So Greg, in his role of very drunk man of the house, strode forth to have serious words with the police. I followed him out as he was telling the cops that he was my big brother. So they're all standing around in the backlane, torches on, car headlights on, talking very seriously.

Greg is holding his beer and smoking and being very serious and adult. I come up and see this pile of dead pigeons. The cops had been called out by one of the neighbors who had found the pile. They had no idea what to do. The cops were clueless. They stayed and chatted to Greg for about 30 minutes, then went away.

FAL and TMOC showed up. Greg goes up to mum. "Hi Jan, there's a half ton of dead pigeons out by your back gate, but don't worry, I managed to talk the cops out of coming into your house with all these underage drinkers." See mum have a fit.

Now FAL are standing outside, gazing at the dead pigeons. There is much serious conversation about what to do. There is, of course, no resolution. Someone brightly suggests calling the police. Greg says they have already been. So the party continues.

Three days later, the pigeons are STILL THERE. And they STINK. A week later, still there. No one has done anything about them. Cars driving up and down the back lane are just running over and over them. It is truly disgusting.

Then I come home from a gig one night, and they are gone! Now, the council does not work after 9pm. So I am confounded but relieved And there was a giant pigeon blood patch on the back lane. Which last time I checked, was still there. A horrible mark had burnt itself into the ashphalt. Like some sort of sign. "Here died half a ton of pigeons."

Questions? Comments? Wanna stroke my ego? Then e-mail me.