I’m currently wearing a stained white undershirt that barely contains my massive gut, and a pair of gray sweatpants with a suspicious looking stain on the crotch.
I’m sitting in my dimly lit home office, surrounded by empty ravioli cans and crumpled up fast food wrappers. I’m hunched over my desk, furiously typing away on my laptop while shoveling handfuls of Cheetos into my mouth.
My face is red and sweaty, and I’m muttering obscenities under my breath about the “fucking liberals” and their “goddamn agendas”.
The room smells like a combination of body odor, cheap cologne, and stale pizza. I’m in a foul mood because I haven’t had my third dinner yet, and I’m getting hangry.)
Cheeto soda? How’s it taste, gov?