On the dangers of birds

Once there was a man whose hair was red
And whereever he went the people said,
"Look at his hair! Look how it shines,
It falls from his head in exactly straight lines
Except at the end where it curls up a bit
Like a kitten that’s found somewhere comfy to sit.
It has to be flattened in a trouser press,
Or else you end up with a terrible mess.
Don’t come crying to me if you don’t heed my words,
You may very well find yourself hated by birds.
They often hold grudges, that’s how birds can be,
Their cutesy façade hides a long memory.
So beware! If you’ve ever had chicken tandoori,
If not properly cooked, it could make you quite poorly.
Sometimes it’s better to stick with a salad
That’s the real take-home message of this little ballad.
And it must be one Gillian McKeith would endorse
For the poo was well-coloured, and not at all coarse.