Birds

The other day Rachel and I were talking about the local sports teams, as us gals are wont to do.

I said, "Beauchemin's arrival in Toronto is not yet working out as well as his splashdown in Anaheim, but his play is getting better along with the other big free-agent signing on defence, Mike Komisarek."

And she said, "Yes, but among the forwards, only the lesser lights such as Wayne Primeau, Colton Orr and Jay Rosehill have done their jobs."

Typical.


Okay, what actually happened was that I accidentally referred to the Toronto Blue Jays (or are they just 'Jays' now?) as The Maple Budgies.

Is this a new low in sports ignorance? Probably.

But, in my defense, I've had budgies on my mind lately. I just want to go on record as a bird supporter. I'm sick of people these days and their birdie trash talking.
"They are stupid"
"They are loud"
"They freak me out when they fly"

No. YOU are stupid. YOU are loud. YOU can't fly and YOU are jealous.


Birds are awesome.

(This post is dedicated to the memories of Merlin, Monty, Anakin, the one I found in the backyard and who never got a name that stuck, and bitchy Sky who died a year ago. RIP Budgie Pals! You are shredding God's wallpaper now.)