As the Secretary of Housing and Urban Development, it’s my job to oversee the living conditions of the poorest of America’s poor. I swore an oath to protect them. And recently, I’ve noticed that the squalor these families live in isn’t really all that squalor-y at all. Like, it’s not that bad. My boss thinks it’s better than Africa! And I fear they might grow too comfortable in these barely livable, but somehow livable conditions. Then like, they’d really start to enjoy their lives of cyclical poverty and endemic dependence on entitlement programs.
And in accordance with the duty of my high office, I’m committed to making these people less reliant on tax-payer assistance. So they can learn to hate their squalor-riddled lives. Thus, seek to improve them. And the way I’m doing that is by making sure they continue to live in the squalor-iest of squalor. And my plan for doing that is by spending all of their welfare money on shit for decorating my big-ass office.
First, I ordered $31,000 worth of dining chairs and tables and whatever the fuck an armoire is. And while this may seem a frivolous waste of taxpayer money, seeing as how I’ll never use any of this crap, you should ask yourself: when America’s unfortunate poor read this on the news, what will their first thought be?
Perhaps you’re right. Maybe their first thought will be that we could have provided upwards of 18,000 meals to needy families for the price of this nonsense. But remember, this table was hand-crafted and made from cheap overseas labor, so like, we got a pretty good deal on it.
I’m of the opinion that our hungry, demoralized citizens will see my egregiously corrupt spending and think, “Damn, if we work as hard as Ben Carson, maybe one day we can abuse a governmental position so we can use taxpayer money to buy useless, ornate horseshit of our own!”
Okay, no I see what you mean. The idea of starving people worrying about what they eat their food ON is just ignorant. I guess I never really thought any of this through. I’m just now starting to realize that spending taxpayer money on a fancy dining room table when my only job is supposed to be helping people who can barely afford food is…well I guess the word is “irony?”
No? I’m wrong again? It’s not irony? The word is “shitbag?” I’m a shitbag?!
Okay, then. I guess I should apologize. I’ll just go sit at my brand-new, $47,080 Walnut executive desk with Ostrich-leather writing station and start writing heartfelt letters to all the people I’ve failed to serve in my time here at HUD. I hope they appreciate these notes, handwritten on a heavy, gold-inlay cardstock. Penned with a $5,290 Montblanc fountain pen I purchased with money that came from the operational budget of our nation’s soup kitchens.
I do hope they will understand. And then I hope they will go back to shutting up, being poor, and not having a voice.
