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You ever notice how vultures always look like they're dressed for a gothic funeral? I mean, who styled these guys, Tim Burton? Feathers are all black, heads are bald - it's like they're auditioning for the role of the spooky bird in a Hitchcock remake. And don't get me started on that hunched-over stance, like they're perpetually disappointed in the fashion choices of the animal kingdom. I bet if vultures could talk, they'd have a reality show called "Birds in Black" where they swoop down and give fashion citations to unsuspecting creatures. "Excuse me, Mr. Squirrel, those stripes went out of style two seasons ago. Consider yourself ticketed!"
I can just imagine a vulture doing a red carpet interview. "Who are you wearing tonight?" "Oh, just the latest in roadkill chic, darling. It's all the rage in the carrion couture world." And you thought your aunt's obsession with Project Runway was intense.
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I recently learned that vultures have a peculiar dining etiquette. They're like the Emily Post of the animal kingdom, but with more feathers and less silverware. You know you're dealing with a high-class bird when it insists on waiting for the roadkill to be properly aged before digging in. I can see it now, vulture families sitting around a table with a checklist. "Is the possum ripe yet, dear?" "No, darling, give it another day or two. We don't want to be caught feasting on fresh meat like those uncultured eagles."
And they're so methodical about it. It's not just a feast; it's a culinary event. I bet they rate roadkill on Yelp. "Three stars for that deer on Route 66 - a bit too gamey for my taste.
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You ever feel like you're being watched? I had a run-in with a vulture the other day, and I swear that bird was giving me the stink-eye. I mean, I get it, I'm not the most glamorous person, but come on, even vultures have standards! It was like the winged version of a judgmental neighbor. I was just waiting for it to start gossiping with the crows about how I need to up my fashion game. Seems like vultures have this reputation for being ominous, like they're the grim reapers of the bird world. But you know what's scarier? Trying to explain to your friends why you were late because you got into a staring contest with a vulture. I think I lost, by the way. It's hard to maintain eye contact when one of you is flapping away dramatically.
Seems like the vulture and I had a communication breakdown. I was trying to tell it, "Hey, I'm not dead, I'm just having a bad hair day," and it was looking at me like, "Sure, buddy, that's what they all say." I never thought I'd have to defend my vitality to a bird.
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You ever wonder what a vulture's social media would look like? Probably a bunch of ominous selfies with captions like "Just circling the neighborhood, looking for the next big thing." And you know they'd be all over those foodie hashtags, like #CarrionCuisine and #ScavengerDelights. Can you imagine a vulture influencer? "Hey, fellow vultures, it's your boy VulturiousWingspan coming at you from the landfill. Today, we've got a smorgasbord of delectable trash - don't forget to like and subscribe!"
And you just know they'd have drama. "Did you hear about VultureQueen456? She tried to steal my roadkill yesterday. Not cool, Karen. Not cool."
So, next time you see a vulture soaring overhead, just remember - it's probably live-streaming the latest in scavenger fashion. #FeatherGoals, anyone?
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