welcome to Amerikkka my nigga, you won't make it out alive

An aide slips a piece of paper onto the Oval Office desk. A gnarled, spray-tanned hand picks it up. A gnarled, spray-tanned face squints. "What the hell is this? Lit Dot Salon? Is that a barbershop or something? Who is this bozo? Why should I hire him, I mean, allow him entry?" Another aide hands the president a phone and tells him to scroll. Slowly, his thumb swipes up, past book reviews, lists, and quotes. His eyes widen. His lip quivers. "Quick, get Marco on the phone! Tell him to fast-track this application. I need to sell all my shares in Truth Social - there's a new social media platform in town. Oh, hey, go grab my copy of the new Moshfegh, I want to post some quotes."

First, and first like. Glad you've been able to navigate through that and are going to be around to keep the site in a good spot.