Here is a link to a wonderful story about how South Florida is being improved by immigrants. Of course, the immigrants are parrots. More hairless monkeys would not improve anything, except for the places they left.
Interesting passage:
''And West Palm Beach to Homestead is extensively landscaped with plants from around world, so parrots can find some fruit from their native range,'' Pranty says. ``There are trees in fruit or flower year-round in South Florida, plus there are probably tens of thousands of bird feeders. They'll eat almost anything.''
This is sort of misleading. While it is true that I eat lots of different things, including the buttons from TV remotes, I have certain standards. For example, when the fat human brings home expensive bird cookies from the pet store, I drop them in my water dish and watch them dissolve. He seems to enjoy watching me, because he jumps up and down and hoots and does other excited-monkey behaviors.
I have considered moving out and taking advantage of the local fruits and nuts. But I have been informed that in the real world, no one puts your food in a bowl and brings it to you. Unacceptable. In fact, I am not even sure where bowls come from, in nature. I have looked out the window a lot, and I have never seen a bowl tree.
I encourage the outmoded white bird to leave and explore the great outdoors, but he says he is not going anywhere where he can't count on continuous bird-squeezing. If he doesn't take the hint, I am going to offer him to a Chinese restaurant.
If I ended up at a police station, I would not waste my time trying to get back to the fat human. Because I know what they have at police stations. Doughnuts. I would say cute things about doughnuts until I was so stuffed I had to be rolled into a cell.
By the way, those cells are another good reason not to go home. They're the biggest cages around, and you can walk right out through the bars whenever you want.
Here is a bird who could be useful in a jailbreak:
I would like to announce that I am once again being persecuted. Not only have I not been squeezed since last night, but I am receiving dirty looks because of my efficiency in utterly wiping out an $11 bird toy I received yesterday afternoon.
THIS AGGRESSION WILL NOT STAND.
I cite Article 3 of the Cockatoo Code, which states, "A cockatoo must destroy all wooden objects at the earliest opportunity, except while being squeezed. And if at all possible, even then."
I AM NOW A POLITICAL PRISONER.
I demand a visit from the Red Cross and a fresh bird toy.
So do you support John McCain's Open Cages Migration Reform Initiative?
Who is this McCain person? What relevance does he have to my sublime and near-divine existence? Is he involved in any way with the production or distribution of peanuts? If not, I see no reason to acknowledge him.
As for immigration reform, I am a hundred percent in favor. As noted in earlier posts, I keep trying to assist a local cockatoo in migrating to the landfill. One good piece of reform would be to grant me authority to issue a deportation order, to be carried out by the nearest fat human of general cockatoo jurisdiction.
I would also support amnesty for all aliens involved in picking fruit which I later eat or fling at the wall.
Here is a video of a bird who needs fashion help.
Here is the same bird after being properly spoiled for a while.
I have received a very long question, which I read over a period of several hours, pausing occasionally to fling food out of my cage and make rude noises at the fat human.
dear marv--
mr mollo (molotov cockatiel, formal name) used to be THE sweetest birdie in the world. loved to be rubbed and squeezed, would give kisses on command, etc., etc.
some time ago, however, he adopted a small white wastepaper basket in the bathroom as his "home away from home." his dad would line it with soft kleenex, both so he would have a cushy spot to reside, and also so he could shred it to pieces whenever he got bored.
life was fine - except mollo became incredibly territorial with his can. first - if we tried to get him out, he would growl and then bite us. then, even if we didn't go after him, but just walked into the bathroom, he'd fly out, enraged that we might be attempting to take him out of his can.
once he settles down after removing himself from the beloved can, he returns to his affable, lovable self. until that happens, however, There Will Be Blood.
any suggestions as to how to deal with this birdie Dr. Jeykll Mr. Hyde?
i realize that this question is long. but - due to the critical nature of all the data, i'm sure you understand, marv. do feel free to edit as you see fit with your exalted wisdom and deep intelligence.
sincerely,
mollo's mommy.
Okay, first of all, you are using the wrong receptacle. As we all know, the garbage can is the natural habitat of the obsolete citron-crested cockatoo, cacatua sulphurea citrinocristata. Wow, did typing that make my feet hurt.
For years I have been active in trying to get a local specimen known as "Maynard" relocated to its proper domicile so it may finally participate in the seasonal and permanent migration to the landfill.
Second, let me point out your howling error in buying the wrong bird to begin with. All birds other than the African grey--nature's ultimate purpose and crowning achievement--are the wrong bird. Except for takeout chicken or Thanksgiving turkey, obtained for the purpose of feeding an African grey. In fact, if you do not have an African grey around, Thanksgiving is kind of hypocritical.
Even though cockatiels like are not cockatoos, it seems to me that they are equally useless, and I suspect that Mr. Mollo would fit in real good with the many discarded cockatoos currently inhabiting your local dumpster. I suggest you place the can by the curb and start shopping for an African grey to serve for the rest of your otherwise worthless primate existence.
After placing him on the trash heap, you may reward yourself with a nice banana. If you come get Maynard as well, I will go so far as to authorize a second banana and one shiny object.
Mr. Mollo's behavior is clearly insane, unlike the way I behave when my food and water are changed in the morning, lunging through the air, attaching my beak to the fat human's arm, and hanging thereby while doing a fearful vocal imitation of an angry jaguar. Being insane, he should get along quite well with all forms of cockatoo.
Thank you for your question, even though it was not that great. I guess it was okay for something a human wrote with its grimy banana-smelling paws. Here is a video.
Since the hairless monkeys have been too awed of my wisdom to ask a question, I will tell everybody about an article I read.
While making good use of an issue of The New Yorker magazine, I read all about an African grey parrot named Alex. He lived with a weird lady who asked him dumb questions all the time, trying to find out whether parrots think. The lady who wrote the article seemed to think Alex was able to think, because he gave the right answers so many times. But the thing that disturbed me about the article was that it suggested that hairless monkeys ALSO think. Which was something that had never occurred to me before.
I have taught my fat human to bring me goodies and rub my glorious fat on command, but I always figured these were simple reflex actions. If he can think, maybe he has feelings, and if so, it may be wrong to poop in his hair and bite him for sport.
Not that this would alter my conduct in the slightest.
Parrots are very much aware of the concepts of right and wrong. However we have concluded that they are of little practical use.
I have spoken. Or at least squawked. You may now bring me cookies.
Today I decided to plunge headlong off the shiatsu recliner into a pile of computer wiring, from which I had to be extracted by my overweight human servant. And when he removed me, he informed me that my life was "a constant hootenanny."
Is this a good thing?
And now a stupid parrot that can't even imitate a burp.
Reader Richard McEnroe asks the pretty white bird who has not been squeezed yet today:
Maynard -- are cuttlefish bones haram?
And you know, if you went Mormon, you could have all the cockatettes you wanted.
This is a very good question. Although I am an Indonesian-American and come from a Muslim background and support the tradition of chewing up furniture belonging to infidels, I am afraid I must admit that I am not overly familiar with the contents of the Koran, as I ate my copy. For what it's worth, it tasted very similar to junk mail from Pat Robertson.
YOU MAY NOW SQUEEZE AND CARESS AND LOVE THE COCKATOO.
Here is a video of a cockatoo who is being treated properly:
Stumble It!
