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The Official Newspaper of Stinky Creek, Texas |
Howdy!
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I'm Just a Guy Last Tuesday, with 47 minutes of spare time to kill before “Dancing with the Stars,” I decided to become a candidate for the presidency of this here United States of God Bless America. Becoming a presidential candidate is quite easy. All you have to do is tell someone you want to be president and hope they don’t laugh. After that, it’s just a matter of setting some goals, defining what you want the voters to know about you, then paying little Johnny down the road to plant “I Want To Be President” signs around the neighborhood. The first goal I accomplished in becoming a presidential candidate was to build a platform. I made it out of some old two by fours and rusty nails. When I was finished, I stood on it, surveyed the world around me, and realized my platform wasn’t tall enough. While I was standing on my platform, I decided it was important for me to take a stand on an issue. It must be an important thing to do because all good presidential hopefuls do it. I thought long and hard about it (keeping an eye on the clock so as not to miss my TV show) and decided to take a stand against people who take a stand against something they know nothing about. For instance, I know practically nothing about the relationship between China and Tibet and why it is affecting the summer Olympics. Therefore, I shall refrain from saying that China has no business being in Tibet; that the Tibetans should have the right to voice opposition against the Chinese government; that the International Olympic Committee should have never awarded a smog-filled, athlete-unfriendly country the premier athletic event of the world; and that I’m REALLY going to be upset if the Olympic medals are gold, silver and bronze-colored lead with “Made in China” stamped on the back. Now that I have a platform and something to stand for, the next thing I need are some unsavory characters in my past – or present – to give me “flavor.” I’m talking about people that the media can dig up (not literally of course) and use against me in a two-hour special edition of “Good Muckraking America.” Someone like my Aunt Edna in El Paso. Aunt Edna is a sweet old lady, but she is a former Mafia Queen from Toledo. My cousin Sal, her son, does obscene things to people’s toes just for the fun of it. They’re always a hit at family reunions, but I don’t eat their potato salad – for obvious reasons. Every now and then I probably should say something nice about my Aunt Juanice in Ovilla or my Aunt Carolyn in Midlothian, but they’re not as intimidating as Aunt Edna. I try to mention Aunt Edna as often as I can because she likes to read about herself in the newspaper. Besides, I don’t want cousin Sal anywhere near my toes. I’ve discovered that money – and lots of it – is an important factor in wanting to be president. Presidential hopefuls must either be independently wealthy or be able to squeeze tremendous amounts of money from supporters through fundraising events. Since I only have $37.26 in my checking account, I’ll be having a bake sale in front of Wal-Mart next week. I look forward to squeezing every dime out of your pockets in exchange for blueberry muffins and homemade sugar cookies. When it comes to the issues, a presidential candidate must not only be able to talk effectively about them, but have very few of his own. They also must be able to offer to the voters something the other candidates can’t. This election season, the other candidates are offering “change,” but I don’t think that’s enough. Voters don’t give a rip about change. They want to see dollar bills – preferably fives and tens. Lastly, what the voters want more than anything else is someone with experience, and that’s where I outperform all the others. I drive a school bus. I drive it in the pouring rain, the searing heat, the freezing cold, day or night. I can maneuver past fallen tree limbs, dodge stray cows and feral hogs, and I can keep little Johnny from beating the snot out of little Joey in the back seat just by raising my left eyebrow. If that’s not a sure sign of someone who can handle running a country, then I don’t know what is. Thank you for your support. |
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The Daily Spittoon is an independently owned rural newspaper. |