“Montgomery?” I said groggily, staring at my decrepit butler through sleep-encrusted eyes. He was carrying one of my solid-gold house phones on a diamond-studded platinum tray. “What’s the meaning of this? Who sent you?” “Telephone call, guv’nor,” he said. “From… Read More ›
When I saw this article in today’s paper, I immediately grabbed my phone and pressed the first button on the speed dial. Instead of a decent, American ringtone, my ears were blasted with a tinny instrumental version of “Free Bird;” the… Read More ›
Oh, hello there. I wasn’t expecting any visitors, so you’ll have to excuse the fact that I’m currently in a state of undress while elderly Vietnamese women slather medicinal lotion on my lower extremities. Keep your mind out of the gutter; it’s… Read More ›
Greetings peasants. Yes, today is my 56th birthday. Yes, it’s also this blog’s — and let me note, I’m still not clear on what a blog is — 10th anniversary. But to answer a question I’ve received repeatedly today: No…. Read More ›
Greetings, Proud Americans. Oz here, and though I’m currently entertaining a bushel of women from Pete’s Pussycat Emporium and therefore have very little time to chat — no, scratch that. The fact is, I simply don’t like chatting with you people, regardless… Read More ›
Ah, nice of you to stop by. Be warned, though, that you’ve caught me in the master bath, where I’m currently giving birth to a particularly onerous bowl movement while perusing the morning news reports. What can I say? I… Read More ›
The examination room was cold as ice, and I certainly didn’t appreciate being left to wait in my skivvies for such an extended period. In fact, I was about to go flag down a nurse to inquire about the holdup… Read More ›
I arrived home from work to find a large, pink party bus parked in my estate’s expansive driveway, “Pete’s Pussycat Emporium” emblazoned on the side. I pulled up next to it and observed a familiar figure seated at the steering… Read More ›
“Good morning, Mr. Carver,” said Carver Consolidated Capital’s (C3’s) office manager Ms. Cashtushy as I hustled through the front door. “Can I—” “No,” I said, brusquely waving her off. I then headed down the hallway, only to encounter my dimwitted… Read More ›
I received a collect call last night from my close, personal friend Hank Williams Jr. Considering that today’s “A to Z April Challenge” topic was required to start with an “H,” his timing could not have been more fortuitous. “Oz?”… Read More ›
Never mind Gingrich’s recent appeasement tour. No true conservative — by which I mean true American — is listening to his nonsense anyhow, and this bizarre act of verbal self-immolation all but ensures he won’t be mucking up the primary process in… Read More ›
