The great bird wall

Well, hell, the birds are back.

As that great forward thinker, Spiderman (or maybe it was President Trump), said, "With great power comes great guns." (Or something like that.)

I don't know why the birds hate me. They do. Constantly bombarding my auto and deck with their waste, it makes me just want to toss up both of my hands. I said, both. It's not gonna be pretty.

We're talking about some bad pajaro's here. Bad thrushes. Muy malo nestlings.

So I'm gonna build a wall. A wall keeping the birds out of my yard. I'm gonna make my yard great again. It's gonna be great. It's gonna be...fantastic. (It's gonna have to be a pretty dang tall wall, though).

And my neighbors are gonna pay for it, too.

Don't ask me how or why they're gonna finance the great bird wall. I just know they will. I can convince them. Just like in the eighth grade when I promised my fellow students if they'd vote for me for student congress, I'd put soda pop in the water fountains. Well, guess what? I won. Sure, sure, the soda didn't pan out, but that's not what matters.

This is all out war! If birds poop on my territory, I say, let's poop right back on them! Let's make pooping great again!*

*This has been a message endorsed by the Anti-Birds Trump Supporter Society.

Now that I'm on the topic of total crap, honestly, you should check out my Zach and Zora comedy/mystery trilogy. Let's start with the first: Bad Day in a Banana Hammock. (Likewise, these books are personally endorsed by the Anti-Birds Trump Supporter Society. Making books great again!).