"I’m Totally Refreshed After The Weekend & Ready To Get Back To Work Hurting The Poor"

By Paul Ryan

Woof, guys.

It looks like despite over two weeks of hard work, the American Health Care Act just couldn’t get enough support to pass the House.

I’m not going to lie to you; this one hurts. Taking down Obamacare has been my main goal for the past eight years. Actually, more. Just the other day, I mentioned to someone how in college I would dream about cutting Medicaid while drinking from a communally-purchased keg. Guess it just wasn’t meant to be, though.

Over the weekend, I took a small break to lick my wounds and treat myself. Still pretty upset, I walked into my house Friday night and didn’t say a word to my wife. No, I didn’t go straight to the kitchen to grab an old, dusty bag of Doritos and then head straight to my room to blast my favorite Rage Against The Machine songs, eat the whole fucking bag, and do air karate against imaginary Obamas.

Not gonna lie. I slept pretty good that night.

Saturday was all about treating myself to the things I love to get me in a better place. I made my favorite breakfast (two eggs and a side of toast with just the slightest bit of butter--the butter allows me to be a little bad, without feeling too guilty). Then, I took my weekly run through the park by my home to see Gunther. He’s this nice homeless vet who is probably the sweetest man I’ve ever seen. I proceeded to just ignore the ever-loving shit out of him.

Afterwards, I headed to the CrossFit class I do with Mitch McConnell and taught him *proper* wall ball form. I ended the day by throwing back a few beers by the dock and sinking the empties.

I took Sunday to get back to the routines that really ground me. I checked on my kids to make sure they were doing well in school, so they can get the tools they need to continue to being born into money. Then, like every Sunday, I headed to mass and ignored the homily, coming up with a bunch of new ways to fuck with people who make minimum wage.

After mass, the fam and I headed to a Denny’s, where I made it very clear to the waitress that she was not entitled to a tip, it would only be a reward for excellent service. (Service was meh.) I capped the night by bringing my wife to her weekly orgasm with zero clitoral stimulation and fell into a deep, relaxing sleep.

Now it’s Monday, and I’m ready to walk back into work rejuvenated and ready to cause poor people harm. I won’t be hanging my head in shame as I walk into my office today. No, sir. I’m bright-eyed with a head filled with ideas...of how to really stick it to people who don’t make as much money as I do. Just like that fresh-faced Miami of Ohio frat boy would’ve wanted.

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Wen Powers (@WenzlerPowers) is a Chicago based comedy writer.