George Santos Confesses to His Crimes

“Republican Rep. George Santos surrendered to federal authorities at a courthouse in suburban Long Island”
—NPR

My name is George Santos, and I confess to the following crimes:

I was one of the senators who stabbed Caesar in the back.

Also, I invented the Caesar Salad. That may not sound like a crime, but let’s be honest: it’s a criminally great dish.

I’m making the noise that causes Havana syndrome. It’s the way my shoes squeak. I refuse to get different shoes. If you try to take them from me, I will walk near you and give you Havana syndrome.

I set the White House on fire. In 1814. I am over 200 years old.

I ate an apple from the Tree of Knowledge. Eve ate one too, but only after she saw how good I was making it look.

Speaking of firsts, I kissed Jesus on the cheek way before Judas. It’s absolutely wild who gets to be famous for what.

Speaking of which, the only reason I’m not in the Last Supper painting is because I’m the one who painted it.

I convinced Benedict Arnold to switch sides by bringing him a nice hot plate of fish and chips, and also 20,000 dollars. Wish I could take that one back, just so I could have an extra 20,000 dollars.

I stole the Mona Lisa. Then I put it back because she wouldn’t stop staring right at me.

I poisoned Rasputin. Didn’t work, though. Can’t charge me for a crime that didn’t work!

I gave Archduke Franz Ferdinand’s drivers the wrong itinerary Sarajevo, forcing them to backtrack down a narrow street, creating an opening for a group of assassins to make their move, almost immediately leading to the July Crisis and Austria-Hungary's declaration against Serbia.

In short, I started World War I.

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Pre-Order My Book

My upcoming collection of satirical essays called This Won’t Help: Modest Proposals for a More Enjoyable Apocalypse hist shelves out October 24. You can pre-order it wherever books are sold!

If you don’t have a personal preference, try any of the book-sellers linked here:

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More On Santos

Earlier this year, I wrote a piece for The New Yorker called “George Santos Applies for a New Job.” I guess today’s piece is a bit of a sequel, in a way.

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That’s all for today—thanks, as always, for reading and supporting this newsletter. See you right here next week, or this Sunday if you decide to…