I don’t have much time for this blogging tomfoolery today; I’m hosting a gala ball this evening, and it will be exclusively attended by people who are wealthier, better-connected, and more glamorous than you.
I’m far too discreet to reveal the guest list, but I will say that my fellow presidents at Luddite, Crapstone & Fuchs are going to be the least notable names in attendance. Beyond that, you can expect to see high-ranking politicians (Republicans, of course), A-list Hollywood stars, hit-making musicians (including a close, personal friend), top athletes, disgustingly monied robber barons, and much, much more.
That is, you could expect to see them if you were invited. Which you most certainly are not.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go check on my butler, Montgomery, to ensure that the food and décor preparations are proceeding as planned. Then I have to meet with my black market drug dealer, Skynyrd Dave, to secure some party favors, and double-check that Pete’s Poontang Emporium is still sending over three dozen call girls for the duration.
Yes, it’s going to be a great evening. And I can’t stress enough how glad I am that you won’t be there. Ta-ta.