Actually, ap, after I'd stopped off to purchase some delicious comestibles in that fine Dominion supermarket near you - a week or so ago - I heard a terrible and mysterious smashing sound on one of the balconies in your building as I waited for my gilt state coach on wheels to spirit me home to the Summer Palace. A man in shorts was crouching intently on his balcony, apparently busy about something seemingly rather untoward. I now like to think it was you in your War Against The Pigeons.
I had my own war - a War Against The Squirrels - in my own back garden in the mid-1990's ( I can reveal no more, save to say that I won ), so I share your sense of outrage at the winged and furry forces of Nature.
I heard that a doorman/concierge in Ed's building won the lottery a few years ago and told several of the owners who were bossing him around during his last week there to fuck right off.