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Well, I was let out of work early today because of Snowmageddon here on the East Coast.

I open the door, expecting my lab Murphy to come rushing to greet me. Does he? Nope!

He is COWERING on the couch as two birds are flying around my living room and kitchen. After screaming like a girl on steroids, I grab a broom and flush them out the door after about 10 minutes of pitched battle.

Confused as to how they got in, I finally notice the fireplace is open. The little bastards must have used there scout move to infilitrate through the chimney while I was at work.

So, can anyone top that?

Kind of.

Came home after school many years ago, opened the living room door, and had a Starling shoot past my eyes. I yelped and slammed it. My brother thought I was bullshitting, as we'd watched The Birds literally the night before. He did exactly the same.

But poor Murphy. Make sure he knows he's a wuss, then give him a nice juicy bone as a treat to calm his nerves.

I have to start this story out by explaining that my family is (and always has been/will be) extreamly bizzare,even when compared against other bizzare families--mine wins the "Most certifiable" prize.

Ok,many many moons ago (1980 somthing),while watching T.V with my younger brother(who was 8 at the time),he begin to talk (whine actually) about how he would like to own goats,the program we were watching had goats in it (might have been Green Acres or some gak).
Anyway,I decided to go hang out with some friends,and as I was leaving the house heard my Grandmother,who we lived with,telling him that she would get him some goats if he was good,I foolishly dismissed this as her just trying to calm the bawling little brat,and left.
When I arived back at the house several hours later and walked though the front door I was met by not one but two screeaching goats that were tied to the leg of the sofa by a leaghth of clothes line,they had obviously not been happy as the living room (as far as they could reach was wrecked).
Aparently my Grandmother had indeed found goats (in fething New Orleans no less)and brought them home for my whining brother,who was delighted to have them as well as uninterested in the damage they were doing.
After an hour or so of heated debate,I finaly convinced my Grandmother that the goats had to go,and made a call to an Uncle who had a small farm in upstate MS. to come and get them.

True story.

Uh sorta yea I can.
When I was a teen, one of my older brothers worked a 3rd shift job. Well he hated it because of always getting tired half way throught the shift. Well a buddy of his one night, gave him some "booster" stuff to make it through his shift one night. Trusting his friend (my brother can be a dunce at times, I mean he hates 40k!) But I woke up to some loud bangs and stuff at like 6 in the morning. Apparently he came home BOUNCING because he took a considerable amount of speed, and thought it was a good idea to make everyone in the house a huge ass breakfast. So I asked what the deal was, and he rattled something off sooo fast I had no clue what the hell he was talking about. Then passed out in the middle of making eggs. It was hilarious

One time, around august of 1988 I decided to walk to the 7-11 about ten blocks away from home at 4:00 in the morning, because I have nocturnal tendencies. I hung around playing arcade games and talking to some friends of mine who were also hanging around, because their weed dealer was supposed to be also hanging around and they didn't want to walk all the way home without their little baggies. Well, he never showed up and I ran out of quarters, so I walked home, which was about 5:30. Just about half a block away from home, I was swarmed by cops and their dogs, because several people had called about somebody trying to break into their houses. They made me get down on the ground (Fortunately it was dry and not too cold out) and handcuffed me. Several of my neighbors came out and told the police that they didn't think if was me and after about four hours they finally let me go home. Naturally, when I was telling them about my excursion to 7-11, I left out my friends waiting for their weed dealer, and they must not have asked the employees very many questions, because none of that came back around to me. The break-ins and attempts continued, and my lawnmower was stolen before the perp was eventually found. The point of the story, IT WAS THE WEED DEALER! He decided to move on to burglary because selling drugs didn't bring in enough money and he didn't like hanging around with stoners.

I remember I was a very messy child. To the point where when I first got my own room, I completely demolished it with random stuff left around everywhere (I actually haven't changed much). One year I went off to, somewhere, it might have been Band Camp or something along those lines in 4th or 5th gradeish era, the details are hazey... but I got home to find my entire room cleaned, remodelled and all of my things organized... courtesy of my mom and my big brother who lived in the little room next to mine. I have such a mental block on this thing that I actually have to memory of where I went to that weekend other than it might have been band camp, which is equally traumatizing.

picture this: you are a fifth grader who plays D&D, doodles in notebooks, hides his own boogers because he can't be bothered to find a kleenex, etc... and you come home to find out that they just went through ALL OF YOUR STUFF! even the math notebooks with chainmail bikini scribbles, the old socks that haven't seen the laundry room for months, the every single thing that might be considered embarassing or wierd to a 9 year old, and meanwhile--- your figures are all dumped in a box, books are all stacked, (COMPLETELY OUT OF ORDER), bed is made (without my awesome starwars pillowcase)... and half of your notebooks have either been thrown out or 'ordered' somehow that obviously means that someone went through all of them.... and what not... that day still haunts me. They also appologized when I got home, before I went up the stairs to my room. IF YOU KNEW YOU WOULD HAVE TO APPOLOGIZE AFTERWARDS WHY THE HFECLKL DO IT IN THE FIRST PLACE?! It's so hard to hire good family. I still love them, but I wish i could put that day out of my mind. Imagine all the blood draining from your... um... everything, your peepee shrinking to raisin size, and your self esteem and trust issues plummetting about 5 miles beneath the surface of the earth.

WELCOME HOME SON!