Upside Down and Hungry

I am clinging to the underside of a gigantic autumnal leaf, and insects don't exist, so I don't have to worry about being eaten by one or--worse yet--having to eat one myself. I stay out of palm trees--the wild parrot community still hasn't decided whether the trees should serve as playgrounds or toilets. The parrots send me a lot of e-vites for their arbitrary parties: "Gathering at 2:48pm at the palm overlooking Ocean Breeze Apartments. See you there!" I'd rather crap on my own monkey bars, if you catch my drift. Those punks don't know what it's like to be caged and told when to sing. And I'm not making a work-in-a-cubicle analogy. I'm a human clinging to an enormous leaf, thinking about insects, but not about what they'd taste like. I often crave honey barbeque wings though. C'mon! Not the parrots--I don't eat that un-FDA-Certified stuff. I do things right: I call my mom up on my cell, and she brings over some KFC.