Henry M. Paulson, Jr.
Secretary of the Treasury
hankp83@yahoo.com

October 3, 2008

Mr. De Kramo^®,

I must say that as the Secretary of the Treasury who has just pissed away a trillion dollars, I was rather surprised to receive your pathetic "Bailout Dollars." Fools and terrorists might share your finite sense of humor and find your pitiful game amusing. But I, Sir, am definitely not one of them. Imagine how awful it is to be me right this minute—just for a moment, put aside your egocentric artistic bullshit and just imagine. I don't know what your day was like but I woke up from two hours sleep, went to an international symposium (a Poop on America meeting) with The W (the Wiener) and The Dick (Cheney) and had my sphincter reamed but good. What an eye-opener. I've got this goddamn crisis growing, a trillion I already pissed away didn't do shit (pardon my mixed metaphors) and speaking of shit, the whole bloody economy is in the toilet and guess what—I'm going to get flushed into the dustbin of history with it. Phooey.

And I got to take time out of my busy schedule, working round the clock, on the phone with finance ministers on all continents, in every time zone, swallowing Sominex^® and Xanax™ with gallons of coffee, just about peeing my pants, no shit, and all of a suddent stop everything to look at your stupid, so-called art. Well you got me really pissed off, and not in my pants.

Just 'cause you've been a broken-down artist all your life without two nickels to rub together, all I'll still be a billionaire no matter how bad the econmy [sic] gets, drinking daiquiris on the beach in the Grand Caymans, enjoying my off-shore account, and fuck the bankrupt. So who's laughing now smarty-pants.

I hear that Barack was recommended to give you a job in the Bureau of Engraving because of the tons of new inflation bills that are going to have to be printed. Gazillions. Like Germany in the twenties. He's going to have to out-source that design job to you 'cause you're going to Leavenworth for eight to ten!

I've a 'way full plate... of steaming shit! But I got to stop everything to file federal counterfeit charges against you. And file personal charges for you libeling me as a felony.

Well laughing boy, you're going to need some real bail money before I get through with you. And if the 'conmy [sic] tanks 'cause I'm distracted and pissed at you, well it'll be your fault.

God Bless America™