The following podcast is a deer media production.

Like a rising phoenix from the coronavirus ashes. She hath risen.

I gotta tell you something. As much as corona is obsessed with me,

she wants to forgive me and she wants to forget me. Okay. With a Lauren Conrad,

mascara tear, trickling down my fucking glowing cheek. I don't know how,

but I can metabolize COVID very quickly. Tested positive on a Monday and tested negative

thrice on a Friday and hit the ground running. High-tailed it to San Ana,

which is Santa Barbara wine country and was wine-tasting on a Saturday. With survival comes

great clarity and with clarity comes mind expansion and with mind expansion comes new ways to

rid of birds in the backyard. During my coronavirus battle, I kept looking for the silver linings.

One of them being that I was in my beautiful new home with a yard that I can skip through,

a little botchy ball. Take a swim in my dolphin 1943 69-ing pool.

Take in the beautiful oak trees. Turn on my golfing stuff adjacent waterfall that's going to be

bulldozed out of here come September and bask in the vitamin D while locked up raw.

But then I remembered that there are approximately 17 types of bird species in the backyard that

prohibit me from enjoying the great outdoors. And because I'm a woman that lives in the pursuit of

solutions and not obstacles, I started really thinking amidst my body aches, chills, and kind of

dulled sense of smell and taste. I was like, what could I do to alleviate this situation? Obviously,

my first thought was to Amazon Prime and Airsoft gun and just start shooting at those little

nests, baby birds and all, feathers flying, honey. Pick them up off the ground and make a tube top.

He does going to love this. So listen up screen, record it. I have to tell you, birds really are the

pain of my existence. They really limit my adventures, my spirit, my jaw to leave. It's very difficult

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