Mailbag: The Office Peacock Weighs In

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We’re gonna run the Mailbag a little early this week. I usually sit on these emails for a few days after they come in and dutifully ponder my response before hitting the keyboard with it, but this one was too good to let sit idly by in my inbox. It’s also the first one to roll in that wasn’t from a human, which I thought was just great. Pretty goddamn weird, but great.

For those who don’t follow too closely, especially on Twitter and Vine where we like to document him, we have an office peacock that hangs out at the TFM Headquarters. “How the hell did a peacock end up there?” Great question. We don’t know how he got here or why he sticks around, but we’re glad he does, because he’s a pretty tight bird. He needs a minor attitude adjustment, but at the same time, I respect his peacock game. He’s always out in front of the office building, blocking the front entry with his feathers all out, terrifying and threatening small children, strutting around and shaking his feathers like the huge, cocky bird that he is. Just owning this place. It’s like he was raised by a bunch of menacing vultures from the hood that taught him to strike first, and ask questions later. It’s hard out here on the streets for a giant, colorful bird like this one, even in the upscale Austin neighborhood of Westlake. He doesn’t take any shit from anyone, or anything.

His name’s Peaco. Here’s Peaco a couple weeks ago as I walked up to the office building after arriving for work.

Right at the front entry, just daring people to walk right past him and into the building. God, I love that bird. And when we move to a new office building in a few months, I’m really going to miss him. Is it mutual, though? Are we friends? Does Peaco care for us? Does he even notice us? Up until Sunday morning, I didn’t know the answers to these questions.

Then, he emailed me.

Dear Dorn,

Hey dickhead, Peaco here. Yeah that’s right, the peacock that lives outside the building you and the other assclowns “work” in. We need to talk and this was the easiest way to contact your inbred ass. Now that I have your attention let me you a story. Years ago before TFM even existed I ran these streets. Those were better times. Used to spend my days strutting around showing off these feathers of mine, and my nights going to town on some fine avian pun tang. But then you fuckers moved in and have been cockblocking me ever since. Yes cock blocking a peacock, go figure. Since it appears you guys aren’t going anywhere and I’m certainly not leaving because I was here first, I’d like to set up some ground rules.

1. Stop making the intern eat lunch outside. I know he sucks and you have to work with him all day but I can’t take anymore of his venting to me. Yea sure bud 4.5 inches is average just leave me a lone.

2. Stop vineing me. I mean it. “Oh look at peaco this morning” better vine it like a 16 year old girl. These feathers aren’t for you man; they’re for the ladies.

3. For the love of god please tell Pearls she is pretty or find her a father figure or something. I’ve personally watched her blow multiple dudes in the parking lot and while I’m no psychiatrist, I sense some self-esteem issues are at play.

4. Replace Bacon’s adderall with xanax. No reason here. Just want to see what will happen.

Hows this list looking SFPL, would it make a good colum? I kid I kid. So anyway, those are my rules. Follow them and maybe we can find a way to share this land. Who knows, maybe I’ll even let you eiffel tower this slut peacock from down the road with me. I’ll let you get back to your jerk circle now.


It turns out Peaco is kind of an asshole.


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Dillon Cheverere

Dillon Cheverere (@DCheverere) is the Vice President of Media for Grandex, Inc. He's a native Texan with a full head of hair and knows his way around a nice box of red wine. Dorn graduated (BBA) with a GPA sitting in the meaty part of the bell curve, not lagging behind, but not trying to show off, either. Golf is his game now. He's long off the tee but can't putt for shit. Email:

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