Now that I’ve quit smoking, I can state with complete confidence that I’m the only American on the planet that is not addicted to something that helps them deal with financial troubles, health issues, shitty jobs, relationship nightmares and/or Donald J. Trump.
So what do I do about my lifelong poverty, severe depression, rapid weight gain, Sasquatch-like facial hair, thankless job and/or Donald J. Trump?
I read Christopher Moore. Repeatedly. Of course I wouldn’t have to read his novels over and over if he would write faster, but I guess that’s the price a reader pays for quality satire.
I wish Chris would send a copy of Fool to the White House. Perhaps Putin’s translator can explain it to the President. Or maybe one of the White House leakers will Scotch™ tape the cover from The Art of the Deal onto it, thereby tricking the President into accidentally reading it. He’ll be so amazed that during his 3 am Twitter frenzy he will get the United States back into the Paris Climate Agreement, demand Congress really fix the health care system, nominate moderate Supreme Court Justices, forget he ever heard of the nuclear codes, and apologize to every pussy he’s ever grabbed.
@RealDonaldJTrump – Fake News lies about death of King Lear! Sad!!! Christopher Moore, whoever he is, has the real scoop!
Yeah, that sounds about right. Someone get me a pack of smokes, a case of Valium and my copy of The Stupidest Angel.