The Meaning of Life

Sometimes I just don't understand people. They sit around whining: "Why I am here?" "What's the meaning of life?" "What's it all about?" The answer is obvious. Ask any parrot. What's it all about? Chewing, of course. And the good thing is, there's so much of it to do. There are pencils to chew and chopsticks and popsicle sticks and old telephone books and old paperbacks that would be headed for the recycling bin if you weren't there to chew them. And when you've chewed you way through all those things, there's your person's collection of expensive colored drawing pencils, not to mention her stack of books that she hasn't read yet, as well as a house full of furniture (the antique pieces are especially tasty). So quit your whining and get chewing. I guarantee it'll help you feel a lot better.