Secret diary of the Kirkabister White-billed Diver

Monday – spent all day submerged off Kirkasbister, swimming around with just my beak sticking out of the water like a periscope. Could see occasional cars stopping and birders trying to find me, but haha, tough luck, losers. I’m not here for your gratification.

Tuesday – fancied a change, so spent daylight hours hanging out with the Red Grouse up on the hill. Nobody ever sees them unless they tread on them and flush them into the open, so was in dead good company.

Wednesday – buggered off to the Bluemull triangle for the day, and met up with a couple of my mates from up north. Busy minding our own business when fuck me, some spawny bastard chanced upon us and started firing off photos. Dive dive dive! Like Das Boot on acid, went deep and long and came up on the opposite side of Fetlar. Damn. There goes my clean sheet for the week. Must try harder.

Thursday – great day – headed out into the north sea, and saw fuck all, and fuck all saw me. “Oh such a perfect day, I’m glad I didn’t spend it with you…”

Friday – headed into town looking for hot chicks. Chatted up a nice bit of diver fluff on a voe east of Trondra, but beat a hasty retreat when I realised she was Red-throated. Nasty. Wouldn’t touch it with yours.

Saturday – weekend, woohoo! That means the usual suspects coming to try and see me, so had to be extra careful and take all precautions. Spent most of the day bobbing around on the duck pond at the end of the road at Kirkabister with all the dodgy geese. Took particular satisfaction watching a twat with a camera going slowly up and down the road looking out to sea. Not a fuckin’ chance, mate!

Sunday – kirk was unlocked, so nipped in the back and tore up the place after the service. Mwahaha. Spent the rest of the day persecuting otters along the shoreline, and beat up a couple of Great Black-backed’s that looked at me in a funny way. Headed out later hoping to get lucky and find a nice Shag…

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