Can you even imagine the things he could gouge out with that beak? All while mocking your screams of protest - making you feel like even more of a pussy. "Stop biting me, Parrot." "Squawk! Stop biting me, Parrot." Parrots. I disapprove.
I don’t think we even need to discuss this one. But if we did need to, I would point out Exhibit A: Birds Are Not Supposed to Talk. Ever. Not even in Hollywood blockbusters like Beverly Hills Bald Eagle. Ooo, that would be a good porn name spin on that stupid chihuahua movie that also hurts my brain. Parrots. What are they good for? Eating all of your Saltines without saying Please first? Parroting everything you say in their wry, sardonic wit. It’s creepy and it’s rude and it makes me wish I could just shove a fistful of Klonopin down my gullet.
Also: those red-assed babboons.
Both seem to be mocking me in their own ways. They make me nervous. I dispprove.
Stop making fun of me, baboon! I'm Irish! It's not my fault; all of my people have pink butts. You're teasing a nation, baboon, a whole nation! Not to mention all the sunburned albinos out there. How do you call yourself a baboon?
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[...] Parrots This was written by nicole. Posted on Tuesday, January 27, 2009, at 11:42 pm. Filed under Full [...]