Happy Friday, slobs. Yes, yes, I realize I haven’t posted for a bit, but there’s a reason for that. Reason being, I’m living in Trump’s America as an obscenely wealthy Caucasian male with the right connections, which means anything resembling grunt work is far beneath me these days.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m sure I’ll still pop in here from time to time to give my long-form thoughts on today’s pressing issues–chief among them being, “Where the hell are my promised hefty tax cuts, Paul Ryan?!” For the most part, though, if you’re the type who hangs on my every word, I strongly recommend you install Twitter on your beat-up Android phone and follow @Oz_Carver to stay up to date.
Also, as I received some fan mail on it: Don’t worry, my butler Montgomery is none the worse for the wear following some complications that arose after he tripped on my bedroom’s shag carpeting and cracked his dome open a few weeks ago. Remember, the man served in the British Navy and is tougher than a bed of iron nails. A few stitches and some Tylenol, and he was good as new.
Now if you’ll excuse me, these Oxy rails aren’t going to snort themselves off my desk. Enjoy whatever it is you poor people do on weekends–I presume it involves flea markets and greasy cans of off-brand beer fished out of a rusty bucket, but what do I know of such things? Until next time, keep the MAGA coming.