Dear Hammer
by Johnny DebacleDear Hammer Paulson,
I’m sorry Hank, it’s not you it, it’s me. I have been violently ill all morning after playing “donkey races” on Sunday. Tequila, speed and tenacity are at once a great combination and a miserable spectacle. Exclusively the latter the next day. And my puking all over your bailout plan has nothing to do with its merits. It looks great, a good win for you and you should be proud. Seriously, good stuff. Like I said dude, donkeys races. Blame the donkey races. I’m sure I’ll be fine by like tomorrow. Or 2014.
Regards,
T. Market
I was wondering why the hell I was regurgitating the whole of Sunday morning… what a fool I was thinking it was mixing Booker’s, Mount Gay, and Grey Goose…
^
Take gun, put in mouth, pull the trigger.
Democracy in its infinite wisdom has spoken. Whether for good or bad we have to accept the decision and move on…
The Hammer weeps for you.
You ingrates.