Hey America. My name is Darren and I’m a regular guy, just like you. I live in a tiny apartment with a couple of my college buddies, over in that complex on Rosewood. You know, the one behind the Papa Johns? I fix computers all day, drink beer with my bros all night, and in the wee hours of the morning, when I’m nice and toasty, I love to hop on the internet and grief the shit out of some nublets.

Which is why I choked on my Pop Tart when this Barack Obama guy called and offered me a position in his cabinet.

The leader of the free world was like, “Darren, this country needs you.” And I was like, “Dude, you’re a fucking loon if you thinks I’m gonna move to Maryland.”

But it turns out that I can work this cabinet thingy from home. To make the deal even sweeter, after these Senate motherfuckers swear me in or whatever, I don’t have to wear a suit ever again. Awesome, right?

So here I am America, your new Secretary of Griefing. Bow down and obey!

First thing I’m gonna do is donate a grip of cash to all y’all griefers out there itching bad for a belly full of Taco Bell and Mountain Dew. I know that this economy bullshit hit you guys the hardest, so I’d be a Grade-A asshole if I didn’t pledge to keep you guys fueled up and ready to program new and more efficient ways of ruining the fun of people we’ve never met.

Then I’m totally going to move this infrastructure around in a way that makes more sense, so that both the Bureau of Spawn Camping and the Office of Douchebaggery fall under my steady hand as head of the Department of Griefing. It made no sense what-so-ever for those agencies to be a part of the Department of Homeland Security. Bush was a fucking numbskull. Am I right?

That’s just the start of all the hot plans I got lined up for America and shit. It’s a real exciting time to be a griefer. I hope that all y’all will unite with me and together we’ll do our best to ruin a better tomorrow.