I’m sick of stupid things. I have to stop thinking of all the moronic people who made schools hateful places for innocent children. I have so many stories to tell but not now.
I am sick of people saying they don’t accept Global warming when we have a drought of huge proportions in southern Australia, floods in Townsville that break records and artic cold in Europe and America and a moronic person with all the power in the world who says, “What the hell is going on with Global Warming? Please come back fast, we need you!” I should have had him in my year nine remedial class when I explained it back about twenty years ago.
So instead of saying anything that might offend a number of you who follow these posts of mine I thought I’d let you know
About a friend of mine called Ralph who’s a stupid little pink and grey Galah
He just arrived one morning when I went to get the bread
He was sitting on the bonnet of my car.
Anyway, to make it simple he adopted me and stayed
And he lives up in the branches of a tree
And every night when I come in from working for a crust
That silly bird’s the first thing that I see.
In the morning when I’m sleeping he comes in through the hole
I put in once beforehand for the cat.
He waddles up the passage hops up on the bed
And screeches in my ear like nothing flat.
The first time that it happened I was up and out the door
Stark naked, I was running for my life
When I turned to look behind me Ralph was laughing fit to kill
And that was just the start of all my strife.
OK, breakfast time at my place, you won’t believe it but it’s true
He sits up on the table near my chair
And picks up all the raisin toast and drops it on the floor
And eats the crust and leaves crumbs everywhere.
At night time when I’m lazing in front of the TV
And smoking my initial cigarette
He will fly down from the bookcase, grab it quickly from my hand
And shred it on the carpet – just like that.
Even Clark the big black tomcat walks around him with great care
And protects the scar he wears now on his nose
It was Ralph who gave it to him and the only thing Ralph says, is
“Do you want another one of those?”
One day my Aunt and Uncle, and my mother came to tea
I kicked the nasty bird outside the door
I forgot about the window and when I looked around
He had thrown all the cakes down on the floor.
This black hearted, nasty, chicken livered Pink and grey Galah
Is the meanest baddest-tempered thing I know
And if, some dark, bleak evening he gets flattened by a truck
I will not be all that sad to see him go.
PS. One day, about a year later
A flock of wild birds
Probably a convention of Galah Probation Officers
Landed on the roof of my shed.
And that black dog of a bird just flew off with them.