How are yinz doin’? I just got back from the shooting range, I’m now on my way to the bodega. I’m fixin’ to wash down my Chicago deep dish pizza with a mighty fine bottle of Clamato. I work in the Brigham Young Memorial skyscraper on the 105th floor as Xerox technician for MAD Magazine, the last American magazine still in print, and live on a cattle ranch next door to said skyscraper. Yet somehow I must still commute for 25 minutes each way in my Ford F-999 pickup truck (which has 6 doors, 8 seats and 1 sq foot of bed space).

When I am not at work, I might go see an alligator down at my local Bayou, go surfing in my local Pacific Ocean, or hit the slopes of my local Aspen. I do not consider the food portions here too large, and I thoroughly enjoy lining up for 6 hours to vote for an election during November (which is a month that I swear used to be cold, but I guess I was mistaken) that can’t and won’t be affected by my vote because I don’t live in a swing state.

My 2.5 children have normal hobbies such as chasing a hoop with a stick, playing Subway Surfers while watching someone else play Subway Surfers on a second screen, and wandering unsupervised along a railroad track with 3 of his friends.

My wife, who I pretend to hate in front of the fellas because it’s a societal norm, is a part full time stay at home mom (which I do not spell with a u) from Mon - Fri, and a part full time bomb technician for Lockheed Martin Tues - Sat.

I wish to for the country to move forward in unity because it’s too divided nowadays, and so I’m doing my part to bridge the gap between me and black Americans by learning Harlem Jive to speak to my black neighbors, wishing every black person I see a happy Kwanzaa every December, and deleting all traces of me wearing blackface to a frat party in college from the internet.