Why They Must Die
Hello, Reader. I find myself in a position to describe to you the woe of kiwi birds, or rather the woe that need be. It is likely in your mind the extended absence of myself, yet I refuse to give a shit about what you feel, think, say, or do. Furthermore fuck you. Is that too aggressive? Are you so sensitive? Well pardon me, Reader, that you come to my bird blog and beg my opinion on kiwis and why they must die rather than my forgiveness. Yet I proceed to give it to you, my forgiveness, and you must suckle from my forgiving teat. As you greedily suck, Reader, read on and observe of my desecration.
First and foremost I must mention the great weight that kiwis force on all minds, their name is a fruit. It is equal parts upsetting and unacceptable.
In their first sin, so damnable that it may frighten the elderly, pisses me off. I guarantee you, Reader, that the fruit certainly came first. I'm not sure why they could not think of a better name for themselves. Why not have a very different name and leave it up for the viewer to decide that, "Hey these birds kinda look like a fruit I know." This is called overstepping mortal responsibilities, a.k.a. disrespecting God, and for this they should die.
Secondly, the entire existence which these birds cling to and call 'life' is a disturbing failure of their genetic bird group, ratites. This group of birds is defined by their long necks, long legs, and large statures. HA HA HA! I laugh at the Kiwi. I laugh, Reader, because these birds have no such features. What a disservice to the mighty Ostrich. What a stain upon the legacy of the once great Elephant Bird. What a pitiful excuse for a ratite! They are the sole nocturnal bird in this group as well. "Of course!" You are probably shrieking as you read this, Reader. "Of course they only poke their wretched beaks out of their malodorous burrows at night in a pitiful attempt to hide their loathsome forms from the pleasant day-walking creatures of the world and God himself!", you are ululating at your screen, Reader.
Well, Reader, save your voice. For I am using mine for you. No one is going to listen to you scream on and on about the deserve-ed death of the Kiwi. They will listen to me, Jacob.
So without further chepooka to slooshy I present my prediction of the Kiwi's downfall:
Fires of death will rain from the sky and a sea of blood and tears will sweep away the Kiwi's into a pit of darkness and despair. The sea will burn in endless fire for 1,000 years until there is nothingness.
Let me know what you would like to happen to Kiwi's! Thanks, Reader. See you in 2 years.