The Bluebird of happiness is dead, the victim of an apparent suicide.

Known throughout the world as a symbol of cheerfulness, happiness, hearth and home, good health, new birth and the renewal of spring time, the Bluebird of happiness hid a dark side.

“The bird had issues” said his grief-stricken agent.  “OCD, substance abuse, failed marriages, unfulfilling relationships with his children. You name it.  The kid had it.”

Sources close to the bird say he had a fragile emotional makeup that shattered under the pressure of expectations.  His behavior as of late had become erratic and his blog entries had grown nonsensical.  One entry dated March 24th is a window into his troubled psyche.

Bluebird of happiness?  Really?  How’d you like it if everyone’s happiness depended on you?  I’m tired of people asking me for health or an easy pregnancy.  I’m sick and tired of everyone looking to me as a symbol of hope. You want a baby?  Then make love to your wife and leave me alone.  Sometimes I just want to crap all over everybody.

The final straw apparently came when he was laid off as the official “Happiness Emblem” of the Today show and replaced by Keith Richards.

Checking into a seedy motel he apparently spent the last week of his life self-medicating and crapping on school children.  Police were called to his room on several occasions, the last one at 3 in the morning when a drunk Bluebird kept screaming, “I’m the f#$#$ing Bluebird of happiness bitches. Deal with it” while firing his shotgun out the window.

His last blog entry read:

This bird cannot sing.  And I’ve never seen seven wonders.  Yeah, I’m talking to you John Lennon!

After his ex-wife reported him for being behind on alimony payments police made one last trip to his hotel room and discovered the Bluebird of happiness’s lifeless body.  He had hanged himself.

“It was quite disturbing” said the policeman who found the body.

My first thought was, “My god no!  Not the bluebird of happiness!”  And my second thought was “How the hell did he put the noose around his neck without opposable thumbs?  Hell, without even any arms?”  Then when I went home and my kids asked me what I did today and I said, “I cut down the Bluebird of happiness’s stiff dead body” they started crying.  It didn’t help when I mentioned that he was probably being cut up on a cold slab in the autopsy room as we speak.

In accordance with the Bluebird of happiness’s will his body will be eaten by a cat to be later coughed up.

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