“Come in,” I said to my vice president of acquisitions Bob Laudermilk as he entered my office. “Have a seat. Would you care for a drink? An Old Fashioned, perhaps? Maybe a martini if you prefer something lighter?” Laudermilk waved… Read More ›
Martinis
I Had No Idea That Rand Paul Was Such A Baby
I had just returned to the office after a three-hour, six-martini lunch at my favorite strip club, Boobs-a-Poppin’, when I was accosted by my dimwitted VP of marketing Sherm Schweinbumser. He had a wild look in his eye, which always… Read More ›
Depression: Mania’s Ugly, Dimwitted, Slovenly Sister
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 ›
People Should Mind Their Own Business
“But Mr. Carver, I really don’t see a stain down here!” This was said by my fill-in secretary, Miss Sugarteats, who was temporarily assigned to me due to an illness on the part of my regular secretary, Miss Cashtushy. She… Read More ›
Roll Them Bones
Hot damn — I just made a cool grand shooting dice against some shipping department flunkies down in Luddite, Crapstone & Fuchs’ basement. The best part is how the shipping supervisor, “Big” Henry Duboise, cried like a woman after $400… Read More ›
Spare Me Your Puritan Values
Busy day at the office today. So busy, in fact, that I decided to take my traditional three-martini lunch at my desk, which enabled me to simultaneously see to my daily Internet porn requirements. And it was all going swimmingly… Read More ›
