…from the December 1959 issue
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The Doclopedia #1,834
Places I Can’t Go Anymore: Auntie Carol’s House
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Well, the ban didn’t happen overnight, that’s for sure. I mean, we only go visit her as a family about once a year. Still, I did some dumb stuff on several visits, like…
When I was 5, I let all 14 of her cats out. She totally lost her shit, even though none of the cats even left the back porch.
I was 7 when I walked into a living room full of relatives saying I’d found a toy rocket. It was her vibrator.
On Thanksgiving when I was 8, my cousin Lenny and I ate her stash of chocolates.
When I was 11, I let three of the neighbors dogs inside her house. All those cats went nuts.
Not long after I turned 13, I turned the volume way up on her tv. A little bit later, when she turned it on so we could all watch some opera crap, it blasted out and scared her so she peed herself.
When I was 15, I found a bag of weed in her yard, so I figured I’d stash it in her fireplace wood. Then I forgot about it and a couple of months later she lit up a fire and pretty soon the cops were searching her house.
The next year, my folks told me I had to stay home. I wasn’t exactly heartbroken.
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The Doclopedia #1,835
Places I Can’t Go Anymore: Parrot Island
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Yes, I was let go from that job due to…oh, uh, yes, that was me. Yes,I’m the one responsible for Parrot Island closing and re-opening 6 months later with all new parrots. Oh, sure, I’ll tell you.
I was the night security guard inside the Parrot Island attraction at Five Flags Amusement Park and I really liked it. I’d pretty much just spend my shift walking around the various parrot enclosures making sure no vandals or hungry wildlife were trying to molest sleeping parrots. Easy job, right?
Then, about 6 months in, my wife and I began to have troubles. Mostly, we only argued at home, but one night, she called me at work and we got into it. I tried not to get loud enough for the guys in the main park to here, but I forgot about the parrots. I was cussing a good bit, so after about two hours of her and I arguing, I’d pretty much worn out the words fuck and motherfucker, along with a bunch of others. Even after she hung up on me, I was still lit and cussing as I walked around. By the time my shift ended, I had calmed down and I went home to an empty house thanks to my soon to be ex-wife.
I had been asleep about 5 hours when the phone rang and it was my boss yelling about all the parrots screaming “Fuck” and “Motherfucker” and “Shit”. I knew I was in deep shit, so I told him what happened.
That was the end of my job. The parrot manager had to sell off 48 trained parrots that wouldn’t stop cussing and so one of the most popular attractions had to be closed until they could buy and train new parrots. I can never go to a Five Flags park ever again.
Yeah, I laugh about it now, too. Turns out, parrots learn curse words faster than almost anything else and they can teach each other new words. Who knew?
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