Screw You, Poor Assholes
I barely have time to write this because I want to beat the traffic to get out to my beach house. You all have beach houses, right? I certainly hope so. I would hate to think there are people reading my site who are so poor they can only afford one house. That would depress me to no end. Actually, my beach house isn’t so much a house as it is a compound, made up of 50 individual houses. See, I’m a real patriot, so I purchased 50 houses, moved them all onto the same piece of land by the beach, and then I named them after the 50 states. Then I hired 50 prostitutes to live in the houses, and I named the prostitutes after the state capitals. That way I can just say to my butler, “Fetch the golf cart, Buster. I feel like banging Des Moines, Iowa today.” And then it is so. See how patriotic I am? I make Toby Keith look like Osama bin Laden.
Anyhow, sometimes my neighbors get real jealous of me because I’m so rich. They say things like, “Get out of our neighborhood, you filthy pimp!” Or “One of your prostitutes is passed out on my lawn. Please come and get her.” I don’t let that mess bother me. Some people are just going to be jealous of my sweet, sweet lifestyle. That’s how it is.
I worked hard to get where I am today and I’m not going to apologize for my affluent, hooker-driven lifestyle. Understand? No apologies. How did I get so wealthy? Well, it may interest you to know that I invented American flag balloon pants. You heard me! Before I came along, nobody had thought to put an American flag on balloon pants. Back then, balloon pants were just one solid color. I said, “Screw that mess! These pants can be just as patriotic as a hat or a windbreaker. Let’s put a flag on them.” The rest, as they say, is history.
Okay, I’ve got to get going if I want to beat the traffic. Larry the Cable Guy is coming over today for a barbecue. We’re going to drink real American beer and make fart noises with our mouths for the rest of the day. Shit, maybe we’ll record it and put it out on DVD. You’d watch that, right?
But before I go, here’s a little something to tide you over. This is Sacramento, California wearing a pair of my inventions.
Doesn’t she look hot? I took this picture on a beach in Maui. It might look like my poorly-lit basement, but I assure you it’s Hawaii. The Hawaiian sun looks a lot like a single 60 watt bulb when photographed.
