Apocalypse Now!

Why didn't anyone tell me about the clocks going back? The chippy has been open for a whole hour earlier every day! And I like to be first in the queue.
I'm completely traumatised after last night. Mole came trundling up with a big grin on his face and a bag of chestnuts in his paws. "Us can 'ave a midnoight feast of roasted chestnuts," he said, "a squirrel gave me these." (Now I come to think of it, that's a very unlikely tale. But to continue...) So we gathered a few twigs together, set them alight, popped the chestnuts in the middle, and waited...
BANG! CRACK! BOOM! Bits of high velocity chestnut flew everywhere! One knocked the owl next door out of his tree! It was every pigeon for himself! Mole, of course, just burrowed down into the ground and disappeared, leaving me cowering behind the holly bush till the explosions petered out.
I won't put my nuts in the fire again in a hurry, you can be sure of that. Just wait till I get hold of that pesky Mole...

Bored, bored, bored. And hungry.

The chippy's run out of spuds, the pizza parlour won't let me in after the last unfortunate incident, and even the Indian restaurant is refusing to serve me. (Just coz I broke the doorway last time I bought some bhajis.) I reckon there's a spot of discrimination against giant pigeons going on. Now what do I do?

A Message for Jammie Oliver

Well, we're back safe and sound. With two mighty leaps, Mole and I were back in the 'hood!
And what has happened while I've been away? The food fascists have been on the rampage, threatening to shut down all the chippys and kebab shops!
I reckon Jammie Oliver and Gillian McTweet haven't thought things through, though. None of this healthy eating lark really applies to pigeons because:
1. We're designed to be walking dustbins anyway.
2. Pigeon survival is at stake. It stands to reason; a small pigeon will make an easy mouthful for a moggy. But an economy-sized pigeon (modest cough) will be too difficult for any passing Tiddles to fit in their maw. AND can squash the nasty moggy flat as a pancake if it gives any trouble.
3. If I went on a diet, I wouldn't be the biggest pigeon in the world any more and some pathetic wannabe would take my place.
So I have a message for Jammie Oliver: TALK TO THE WING, 'COZ THIS PIGEON AIN'T LISTENING!