Published Apr 18, 2007

I’m a good bird; I like to talk nice, using sweet words and saying them in a sweet voice. That gets me love and kisses! And what bird doesn’t want love and kisses? But some days talking sweet just doesn’t work.

Like last weekend. My dad left to stay with his new strumpet for a lot of the weekend, which is OK, ‘cause I’m used to that. My dad likes the girls (I do too). but he kept on coming back to the house for just a few minutes. Of course every time I got excited because he was going to take me out of my cage and scratch me and pay attention to me! And what bird doesn’t want scratches and attention? But I didn’t get any, because each time he just left to go off somewhere else.

Every time I talked nice, my dad responded in a patronizing voice, telling me I was good and then saying bye. That made me mad. At first I screamed, but, let’s face it, that doesn’t annoy my dad at all. So I had to bring out the big guns.

See, before I came to live with my dad I lived with a private eye in Hawaii. No Magnum P.I, this was, just an average guy who thought birds looked like good props. Now, my first dad, he had a mouth on him, and of course I learned to curse like a sailor. My first dad would laugh every time I said a dirty word, but, after he sold me, the pet store owner didn’t and then my dad was too nice to me for me to want to curse. So I quit.

But last weekend, screaming didn’t do it. Dad wasn’t listening, and I was frustrated. So, the last time, I just said what I meant. He put me in my cage, and I said “hello pretty bird,” just like I always do when I’m friendly. He just said “aww.” “Gimme a kiss!” I demanded, because usually that gets him to come in and give me a kiss. It didn’t this time; instead, he said the dreaded words: “bye-bye Junior!” He was leaving me alone again! The bastard. So of course I was frustrated. So I said what I felt. I made sure to say it real clear, although I didn’t yell. I just said it once, but I know he heard me just fine. And then I was quiet, ‘cause I’d already said what needed to be said:


And then he left. The bastard. If he doesn’t shape up, he’ll hear more of my vocabulary soon!


Strumpet, yet! That is not a good way for Junior to procure more of the sexy little mints hes so fond of

ok, i had to look up strumpet. thanks for teaching me a new word, junior! “Shit” is right.

Junior’s in a little bit of trouble for using that word. Apparently he thought it was a kind of breakfast cake with berry filling; the real meaning is, of course, rather stronger. His blog privileges have been revoked for a few days.

Junior is killer. Fucking genius!
(I looked up strumpet too!)

Uh Oh!.. Strumpet is not what I thought it was! I felt connected to Milla there for a sec because I looked up strumpet too! I am so naive… maybe Junior is too! But Junior, Killer! Brilliant! Ha ha!!! Fucking laugh!