Listen, the first time we saw you walk into the dive bar with that Scarlet Macaw on your shoulder, you were the hippest thing on the planet. “How long have you owned him?” we asked. And you replied with an air of aloofness, “Oh, I don’t own him. I don’t believe one species can own another. Camus is his own sentient being who just happens to live on my shoulder.” At that point, we were crawling over each other to light your Parliament and buy you a can of Old Style.
But that was yesterday. Today, we see that squawking beast for what it is: a mangy nuisance. He’s always taking your glasses off and throwing them on the floor, and even you are tired of this once-cute act. All your vests and band tees are stained down the back from his liquid siftings. And remember that time he bit Milo on the adam’s apple? That was a bad scene to say the least.
Unfortunately, those things live to be like 150 years old. We realize you probably had dreams of one day passing it down to your grandchildren, but you need to scrap that idea and Craigslist that thing immediately. You can philosophize about the place of pets in our society all you want, but your reputation is at stake here. Eighty-six the bird, get some new tees, and if you miss the companionship, go get a snake or something. Get a descented skunk. Anything with a shorter shelf life will do.