Dear Bill


I wanted to make sure you spelled it right, you pencil-dicked peddler of phony outrage and factesque poli-porn.

Oh, and send me a couple of copies, wouldja? So I can show it around. I’d like to frame it and hang it in my office next to a copy of my first lawsuit. I might send it to my mom to paste it into my scrapbook next to all the poetry I wrote when I was seven and the picture of her I painted with my fingers.

I know for damn sure I’m gonna want to hold onto it to show any kids I may have when they come home from school with their history books open to the chapter on how you worthless tin-hat fascisti screwed up their country.