Jiya the cockatiel is roaming around Hamilton North. I’m not overly concerned that he’s at the mercy of the brown falcons, the murder of crows and the sixty billion cats that seem to spend their evenings crapping in my front yard and driving Jambo to distraction. I’m more concerned that some unsuspecting visitor to our glorious suburb is going to hear a voice shrieking “Oi, Nutter! Show us ya tits!” and think it was me.
Help Erin, before someone’s offended