I came across this poor little innocent soul of a bird while walking back to the gallery after picking up my daily Orange Dream Machine from Jamba Juice, where, I might add, I no longer have to say my order because all the awesome employees now know what my smoothie of choice is. I switch my free boost on a whim (in case you’re wondering I either go with “immunity”, “daily vitamin”, or “energy”) so I still have to mention that, but most of the cashiers could pick for me and I’d have no complaints. Anyway, back to this gut spewing bird. At first I thought it was just your standard text book “nature’s wrath” sort of thing. After some analysis I have formulated a completely new theory and one that I think is much more accurate. If this poor bird’s life was taken due to the wrath of Mother Nature there should be nothing left of the bird. Nothing except a few scattered bones. If a predator, say a hungry cat, got hold of this bird they clearly would not have left all the meat. I can’t imagine a cat or another bird predator killing for sport. Murdering just for the fun of it. Killing for killing’s sake. And if that was the case you’d think the killer would take some sort of token trophy to proudly hang above their mantle. Like the bird’s beak. Or the whole head for that matter. They would no way leave the entire carcass on the sidewalk to rot in the sun. Nope, this is tragic case of Intentional Bird Suicide. This poor little precious bird was not a kamikaze pilot either, if that’s what you’re thinking. This tender innocent little bird’s final resting point happend to be right in front of a Barnes N Noble display window. So, my theory, which I feel can not be argued is that this frail good natured feathered hero of ours saw the enormous stack of “Story Telling” by Tori Spelling books on display in the window.

Sickened by the sight of all that wasted paper the little bird felt he could no longer go on living in this world.

Amen, birdie. I love you. May you rest in peace for all of eternity.