My manager Michael Claymore has just won the Pulitzer prize for his epic novel “Where the fuck is MY Nobel?”
The Pulitzer board recognized that Mr. Claymore has yet to learn the difference between vowels and consonants, but they have great faith that within the next six months he will eclipse Mailer and Hemingway and that he will, in all likelihood, make Shakespeare look like that jackass who wrote “The Whiny Housewives of Madison County”
Hot on the heels of this stunning announcement came the news that Michael has also won the Oscar for Best Director for his as yet un-filmed opus “Apocrypha Now”, which critics are describing as combining the greatness of “Ishtar” with the high octane action of a weekend with your grandmother.
Meanwhile at the Vatican, the Pope declared that in a letter handed to one of his predecessors by the children present at Fatima, it was revealed that the recent tacky impersonation of the Jackson five is in fact the Seventh Sign of the Apocalypse. His Holiness then begged Mr. Claymore to persuade his heavenly father to delay the Armageddon long enough for His Holiness to win his own box of Cracker Jacks.
On the negative side, it is not true that Mr. Claymore is soon expected to find a cure for cancer, as in his own words “I just bought the fucking chemistry set for Dad’s sake, stop putting so much pressure on me!”
According t o CNN, when asked whether or not Mr. Claymore would be the recipient of next year’s Nobel Peace Prize, the Nobel committee replied “What, you think we give these things to just anyone?”