Greetings fellow lovers of American Freedom. I would say mind the poop I just dropped right in front of you, but the ability to empty my cloaca wherever, whenever I want is the cornerstone of my campaign. So pull up a chair near my white plop of freedom while I, the common feral pigeon, explain why I’m campaigning to replace that elitist bald eagle as the bird that represents this great nation.
I’ve watched for years as the liberal establishment eagles have pretended to be patriotic while doing nothing but nesting in tall trees away from people, rebuilding their dwindling population. It made me sick. It wasn’t until I saw the great bravery of the anti-maskers that I realized it was my time to step up to the plate and offer myself as an alternative avian symbol, ready for adoption by the fiercest freedom fighters in this great country.
Let me tell you a little more about me. Some of my favorite activities include congregating in public spaces with an enormous flock of my bird bros, indiscriminately shitting on anything in reach, and spreading infectious diseases. I also like to blatantly disregard personal boundaries and coo at the top of my nine air sacs no matter what time of day it is. In other words, I’m a red-blooded American, just like you.
I think you’ll find we have even more in common than you’d expect. I’m wholly unremarkable, white, and freakishly attached to certain statues. Unlike the bald eagle, you won’t find me eating fresh salmon out of a river like some kind of snobby Harvard lib. No, as a real American bird, I’m going to get down on the ground and fight a sewer rat for half of a discarded Chalupa. Imagine how good I’d look on a sleeveless tank top from Walmart, dukes up, clawing a rat in the face with my freedom talons while the red, white, and blue wave behind me majestically. Certainly way better than a stupid eagle, who again, used to be endangered like some kind of pussy.
Me? I’ve never been endangered. In fact, some may call me invasive. I take that as a compliment. As a pigeon, I take advantage of every opportunity I can, and if my droppings pollute the environment, well, that’s just capitalism, baby.
When was the last time a bald eagle joined you for an old-fashioned Independence Day BBQ, anyway? This Fourth of July, my feathered brethren and I will be right by your side, pecking at the remnants of discarded hot dog buns, then flitting from picnic table to picnic table, leaving a trail of salmonella-tainted excrement behind us, as the beautiful colors of the fireworks explode over our heads.
The bald eagle? Oh he’ll be up in his high and mighty oak tree with his mask on. You thought that he just had white feathers on his head? Wake up, sheeple.
I won’t rest until we feral pigeons are the new symbol of American hope and freedom. Some day, I believe my grandchildren’s wings can be tattooed on an American man’s buttocks next to a quote from Robert E. Lee. But today, I’m asking you, do I have your support in becoming the new American freedom bird in 2020?
Thank you. (Also, FYI, I left about twelve freedom plops on your truck.)