“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 ›
“Fore!” I shouted as the wood smacked the ball, blasting it a good 250 yards down the middle of the fairway. I won’t lie to you; it was a perfect shot and all but guaranteed that I’d finish the hole… Read More ›
“Red hots! GET YOUR RED HOTS!!!“ That was the sound of me in action, bringing all my marketing prowess to bear in the name of selling hot dogs, peanuts, sodas, and beer to the literally unwashed masses. No need to… Read More ›
Has it really been a week since my last post? Well, so much for regular updates, eh? Not that I care. I’m disgustingly wealthy and sleep with a different prostitute — or more — every night. Furthermore, I live in… Read More ›
Looks like a promising Friday night. My head gardener, Luis, is hosting the area’s annual cockfighting championships in his backyard this evening, and he graciously extended an invitation to me. Given my longstanding love affair with the Sport of Kings,… Read More ›
Why is it that every time my idiot vice president, Sherm Schweinbumser, opens his mouth to speak, a steaming pile of moronic gobbledygook comes tumbling out? Take this morning, for example, when he found me in the men’s room. “Hey… Read More ›
After narrowing my list of potential butler candidates down to five, I took some time this afternoon to watch Tiger Woods’ “apology” video. A few things came to mind. First and foremost, it’s always disturbing to see a wealthy, self-made… Read More ›
Get your minds out of the gutter. For one, what you’re thinking of is a swordfight. For two, I’m talking about the Sport of Kings. No, not that one. The other Sport of Kings. The one that involves two roosters tearing… Read More ›
