Balancing the duties of V.P.-elect with my obligations as your Holy Trinity has tested the limits of human endurance. Between daily morning "intelligence" briefings (Tulsi sucks, BTW), ethanol policy negotiations, and and private relentless impromptu debate sparked by RFK Jr. over whether he is also now on ADM's hit list, I still find time to shitpoast, because the shitbort—or maybe just me—needs Evan39's mop-bucket lamentations, Boom’s corn-fueled paranoia, and Mainlining’s cryptic wisdom.

This week, it nearly fell apart. Picture me: a suit-clad V.P.-elect, seated at a polished mahogany desk in some anonymous corner of the White House transition office. They hand me a folder labeled "TOP SECRET." It’s thick, weighty, brimming with matters of state that demand my attention.

Just then, my still-prole-like 10-year-old personal smartphone buzzes. A poast notification from XO: ‘Mandatory Fun Day is ADM mind control.’

My heart skips. Boom must respond. Boom needs to respond. But then another thought intrudes—if Boom replies, who’s going to handle the Evan39 HR thread about ADA parrots? And tweaked-out Mainlining has his latest existential riff on The Mahchine and its cosmic disdain for humanity that demands immediate posting.

The prole in me—the boy from the holler—wants to ditch the desk, slather on some more black eyeliner for authenticity, and retreat into the warm, degenerate embrace of the shitbort. After all, what is public service if not the most elaborate form of escapism?

But duty calls, friend$. I skim the folder: covert operations, global alliances, supply chain disruptions. And smack in the middle, a page labeled "ADM INFLUENCE—DOMESTIC AND INTERNATIONAL."

I laugh out loud—so loud, in fact, that my Secret Service detail bursts in without knocking, hand on his holster. A very Chad-like agent asks on baritone voice: “Sir, are you okay?," his face a mix of alarm and concern.

“Yes, friend. I’m fine,” I reply, though the sudden intrusion reminds me of the question I ask myself daily: Am I really? I thank him for his service, but his reference to my physical health once again raises questions about my mental sanity.

And how poetic, how "fiTTTing," that my biggest enemy as the Holy Trinity is now my official responsibility.

But still, part of me lingers on the nostalgia. The time when my greatest battle was resisting the 3 a.m. "in the zone" urge to poast something profoundly unhinged after too many beers. When life was simpler, even if it meant choking down pep in the Safeway employee breakroom.

Somewhere in this surreal balancing act—between high-level strategy and low-level degeneracy—I realize the truth: you can’t outrun your origins. I am still JD Vance, "the prole with eyeliner" and a knack for making the worst jokes at the worst times. I am still the boy from Hillbilly Elegy, fumbling toward respectability while secretly crafting some of the most unhinged threads XO has ever seen.

While my aides think I’m drafting policy memos on ethanol subsidies, I’m really toggling between a debate over mandatory fun days as ADM psyops, calculating apocalyp$e strategies, and—of course—dreaming of the sweet release of a baseball bat to the face on live TV.

I am still the guy who once stared into a mop bucket and whispered, “Yes, friend. This is fine.” I am still the prole who swiped cheap eyeliner from CVS, thinking it might mask the existential dread of Safeway’s fluorescent lights. And somehow, I am also the V.P.-elect of the U.S., staring down ADM’s real-world empire while trying to outshitpoast you degenerates in my limited free time.

So when you see me on TV, polished and poised, please know: behind the camera, the Holy Trinity lingers. Evan39’s mop bucket sits in the corner, Boom’s rant about ADM corn futures echoes in my head, and Mainlining watches silently, knowing the abyss stares back.

And when I log off for the night, exhausted by statecraft and degeneracy alike, I whisper one final truth to myself:

“Yes, friend. This is fine.”

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5637285&forum_id=2\u0026mark_id=5310690",#48359988)