My vice president of marketing Sherm Schweinbumser entered his office and flicked on the light, never noticing that I was standing adjacent to the door with my back to the wall. He made a beeline for his desk and as… Read More ›
Why Don’t We Change Our Mascot To A Hippie And Call Ourselves The Dope-Smoking Party While We’re At It?
I was in a meeting with two of my underlings at Carver Consolidated Capital (C3) this morning when a news alert flashed on my Blackberry. My eyes exploded with shock, and I yanked the phone off my desk to ensure… Read More ›
“Great Nixon’s Ghost!” I barked, staring at the television in disbelief. “Where did they find this useless moron? My teenage niece could do a better job than him!” “What’s that now, guv’nor?” asked my butler Montgomery, arriving with the platter… Read More ›
I decided to grab lunch at the Metropolitan Club with two of my former associates from Luddite, Crapstone & Fuchs, Charles “Chuck” Luddite XV and Leo Dreisdale. Once our orders were placed and our drinks had arrived, the conversation naturally… Read More ›
I just got back from a three-martini lunch at my favorite strip club, Boobs-a-Poppin’, which in itself is a bit of an oddity. See, when I make a midday trip to that dimly lit slice of heaven, it generally means… Read More ›
Carver Consolidated Capital (C3) employs an exact total of 100 people, including me, and once a month I like to treat everyone to lunch. Sometimes it’s pizza, sometimes it’s Mexican, sometimes it’s subs. Today I decided to splurge for steak,… Read More ›
The 1970s were a different age, to be sure. A simpler age. A wilder age. A — well, a sexier age. Disco. Skating rinks. Hot pants. Led Zeppelin. And of course, video games. Not the hi-def seizure bombs that keep… Read More ›