Bye Bye, Birdie.

When I get a free moment at work, I am usually cruising the web. Typically, I will start with the important things, such as the news or Facebook and then mosey on over to TMZ.com, and I always leave feeling slightly pathetic. Did I really need to know that Amy Winehouse got arrested again? Or that Lindsay Lohan is back in rehab? However, I do wonder if Amy and Lindsay have ever crossed paths; maybe shared a room in rehab, and if so, what went down?

See, there's the pathetic part.

What I'm really trying to get at is the insightful 'article' I came across yesterday.

TMZ reported: "The handwritten poem -- which is part of the massive Elvis auction going on at gottahaverockandroll.com -- is called "Ode to a Robin," and was sometimes recited by Elvis on stage and at one point was used as the answering machine message at his home."

Hilarious. Am I right or am I right? I know. America now has a slight, detailed look into what was going on inside Elvis' very warped mind. He was more than macabre. There should be a club for morbid poets. Nevermind, I'm sure there is. Given that, I have a strong suggestion for those clubs: officially dub Elvis the Shakespeare to their genre of poetry. It only seems logical. Anyone who can write about a Robin, being heinously murdered on a window sill, has my vote.

At least the bird received a shared moment with 'the king' and his shaky leg before having a window slammed onto its little body. With that, he really ain't nothin' but a bird killer.