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 ›
Strip Clubs
Hot Damn, The 2016 Election Season Is Already Underway
If you’re like me, there’s only one Democrat who instills more blind hatred, disgust, and loathing in you than Chairman Hussein Marx Obama Tse-Tung, and its name is Hillary Rodham Clinton. Wait, strike that. I suppose Obama wins that contest… Read More ›
I Is For Injustice
Following a long night at my favorite strip club, Boobs-a-Poppin’, I was en route to my palatial estate when a low-paid civil servant with a gun and a badge had the temerity to pull me over. “Good evening, sir,” she said… Read More ›
Friday Afternoon Bum Fights
The two bums circled each other slowly in the dusty, litter-strewn parking lot. Neither was in a rush to bring the fight to the other and frankly, I was growing restless. “Come on you worthless blights, let’s get this party… Read More ›
Paul Ryan’s Latest Budget Is Getting Me All Hot
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 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 ›
Sorry, I Thought It Was A Different Kind Of Wednesday Altogether
Well, there’s a considerable amount of egg on my face today — and absolutely zero cloth on my ass. The reason? Let’s just say my longstanding devotion to OxyContin hasn’t done any wonders for my hearing. You see, when I… Read More ›
S. Truett Cathy Is A Seriously Deranged Individual
I had to go into the city on business yesterday — legitimate venture capitalism business, thank you — and decided to grab lunch at the Metropolitan Club. Not to brag, but I’m a legacy member. In fact, my maternal great-grandfather, Tobias… Read More ›
Soccer Is The Worst Thing In The World
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 ›
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 ›
