Corvallis has long been thought of as a backwards farm town, what with the smell of cow manure wafting through the city every so often, the horses that hang out on the corner of 35th and Western, and the fact that we offer cosmopolitan majors such as crop sciences and livestock management. Now I thought that our little city was starting to outgrow its agricultural roots, what with a new movie theater and a bigtime football stadium being constructed. But nothing says down on the farm like a rooster.
I don't know who owns this rooster, but it lives somewhere east of our bedroom. And nearly every morning I'm wrested from the jaws of sleep by this infernal fowl. Last night was the coup de grace though. That damn chicken with an ego decided to start welcoming in the new day at 12:30 am. I don't know if a band of punk kids got a flashlight and were shining it in the little buggers eyes or what, but this was ridiculous. Have you ever tried to sleep with a rooster crowing? Damn near impossible. Now I know the area east of our apartments - there's no farms there. There's a few apartment complexes, some houses, and I think an appliance store. Why anyone needs a rooster is beyond me. I can't imagine it's cheaper than an alarm clock, what with feeding it and all. Unless it's some hippie that thinks electricity is the bain of existence. I swear, living with a train rumbling by not more than 50 feet from my window was easier to take than this freakin' bird. I can rest a little easier tonight knowing that it's thanksgiving and I'll be eating his cousin for dinner. I might go back for seconds just out of spite.
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