Congratulations on Successfully Renewing Your Subscription to the New York Post!

You don’t accomplish much nowadays. Time was you made headlines with multi-million dollar deals and tabloid headlines with alien babies and celebrity romances. But that was before the financial collapse rendered the mansion building and remodeling business that was the cornerstone of your financial empire insolvent.

Luckily you managed to keep one of those mansions so that you can live there while you’re investigated for various forms of fraud, which became apparent after you could no longer afford your smoke screen of lawyers.

Your lone attempt at fiscal recovery, which involved a brief, unsuccessful career in executive hip-hop, didn’t work out at all the way you planned and, if anything, left you in more hot water. Just to be clear, that word is their word. Not ours. We get honkey. They get that one.

So now you spend most of your time in doors eating from cans and awaiting various court dates. It’s a dull existence, sure. But it’s structured and, along with your strict Catholic upbringing, it keeps you from killing yourself.

The problem is that, even with the structure, it’s really depressing. Every day it takes a huge effort to get out of bed in the morning, shine up your shoes and wander around the house, occasionally straining your ear to hear if a ringing phone is signaling another development involving a bailiff.

Your lone joy has been reading the New York Post. Its wacky take on “news” and “world events” as interpreted by the mentally ill has kept you going when nothing else could’ve. But your subscription is going to end soon.

That’s why you’re going to spend a brief part of today filling out the card and then putting it in the mail. Your subscription will be renewed from the funds afforded to you by a modest government allowance while you’re under all those different flavors of investigation and the paper will continue arriving at your house without incident.

Is that all we’ve got? Really? Why did we even write this? Ah well, fuck it. It’s already scheduled. Congratulations on successfully renewing your subscription to the New York Post, you boring fucking degenerate. We hope they find that girl’s bones so we can watch you fry. It’ll be the only interesting thing you’ve ever done.