POLITICAL HUMOR

My Name Might Be George Santos And I’m Excited to Serve As Your Professional Liar For New York’s 3rd Congressional District

I was born a poor Black child.

(Source: AP/John Locher/Fair Use)

I remember when I graduated from Choate (don’t look that up), I felt the full pressure of inventing spaghetti in the eight grade. There was nowhere to go but down.

Would people assume I was Italian just because I created the world’s most popular pasta? How would I explain that sometimes I’m Jew-ish and I was really just trying to make blinis?

I remember my childhood in Puerto Rico where I taught goats to talk. My abuela would say, “Why do you keep telling people your name is George Santos? It’s Anderson Cooper and you’re heir to the Vanderbilt fortune.”

A lot of people say I look like a young Bob Colacello, probably because he’s my father. My mother was Andy Warhol and I was conceived during a drunken night at Studio 54 in 1983. I remember it like it was yesterday —nursing at Grace Jones’ razor-sharp nipples, snorting coke in the bathroom with Bianca Jagger, and learning the hotel business from Ian Schrager, all before I could even walk.

The great thing is that the truth is an outdated concept and even…