Pigeons with pens
Of late I’ve been besieged by a coterie of anal retentive critics for allegedly writing the same stuff over and over again.
It seems to center around the topic of pigeons (instead of sparrows), and so I now regard this emerging donnybrook as the Great Pigeon Conspiracy. All that’s missing at this time is my grammar and syntax coach, Jonathan Rice.
I have never in my 39 years of writing addressed the topic of “pigeons,” but it looks like all of a sudden the pigeons are writing about me. What is this, some sort of coup d’etat?
A simple solution comes to mind. All these folks should assemble in the British Virgin Islands, home of the Malcus family – and my international critics. Once there, they should form up in a column of ducks and take a long walk on a short pier.
Obey my commands at all times, you cobblers.
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