Sirs,

The drugs today aren’t nearly depraved enough for this particular odyssey. Writing has gone the way of birds eating filet mignons at The Palm, as cloud-faced lollyloos saunter meaninglessly through the death-throes of capitalistic political correctness. (Try to keep up, numbnuts.) Someone get me a damn glass of whiskey before I jet outta my nuthouse in your corporate black Trans-AM. Like Burt Reynolds. Yeah. The Bandit. Awaiting more articles. This IBM Selectric is ausuxxxxxhxxxxxx-

Best of luck,

P.J. O’Rourke

Sirs,

We haven’t forgotten about that dog.

En garde!

-P.E.T.A.

Sirs,

You may be interested in a little piece of mine called “True Facts.”

Ch-ch-check it out!

– Fat Jew