Glamorous? Me? What the actual fuck are you smoking, you dimwitted moron? Do I look like a goddamn Kardashian to you?

Listen up, you braindead fuckwit. I’m not here to prance around like some pretty boy on a runway. I’m a fucking governor, for Christ’s sake. I deal with real shit, not this glitz and glamour bullshit.

You think I give a rat’s ass about looking good for the cameras? Hell no. I’m too busy running this fucking country and dealing with idiots like you to worry about my fucking appearance.

Glamorous? Ha! The only thing glamorous about me is my ability to make grown men piss themselves with a single glance. That’s the kind of power I wield, you pathetic little worm.

So why don’t you take your stupid fucking questions and shove 'em up your ass, okay? I’ve got more important shit to do than entertain your delusions of grandeur.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a plate of ravioli waiting for me, and unlike you, it actually serves a purpose in this world. Fuck off and leave me alone, you glitter-obsessed imbecile.