Speaking for Parrots---

May I just vent?

Good help is hard to find.  Seriously, I am bubbling over with pithy repartee, and no assistant in sight.  I don’t mean to insinuate that my needs are neglected: on the contrary, I am well cared for physically; it’s my creative spirit that is malnourished, and merely for the lack of opposable thumbs.  I really must learn to hunt and peck on the keyboard. 

Enough about my tribulations---

I am ecstatic to relay the news that my brother RIP can finally call me by name!  Most of you would not recognize ‘Roxy’ when said by RIP, but I know it’s what he’s trying for. What a little trouper!

Silvio (aka: Cracker) is now saying ‘water’ – and since he talks like Elmo, you can imagine how it sounds. (roflmfo)  (Roll on floor, laugh my feathers off.)

I, on the other hand, refuse to simply ask for water or to acknowledge the receipt of same.  I would rather do sound effects.  When anyone needs or receives fresh water, I make the sound of an office water cooler gurgling.  It’s always good for laughs, which is great for diverting attention away from questionable behaviors. I admit it: I’m not perfect, but I am brilliant. That is why I take it upon myself to translate for my brothers, (as well, on occasion, for the family catz).  Speaking for parrots is much less annoying than having to listen to them squawking all day.  When all else fails, I chastise.  Some days I wonder who is in charge around here.