ENTRY #3

So, you need to choose a presidential candidate and you have come to me, the all knowing, all feeling, all flowing source of information. There are many good candidates and the decision can be difficult, but let me offer you some wisdom from the Bygott tree. Let’s say perhaps that you are a McCain fan. First, I would like to ask you how you got this address and then I would like to remind you that, although I did skip history class on occasion, I would rather you didn’t blow me up. It’s not that I don’t appreciate explosions; I’d just rather not be part of one right now, or ever. I’m sure this is a foreign concept to you, being such a fan of fireworks and flying dead people, but I if you could just imagine yourself as one of those dead people, flying, and being dead, and not enjoying it… are you doing it?… good… now remember this feeling on election day… it’s like you’re so dead you CAN’T EVEN MOVE… perfect! This feeling of paralysis is exactly how you will best serve your country on that great day. Keep that in mind baby! YOU CAN’T EVEN MOVE! And I don’t even charge for this stuff!

Next, we have Ms. Hillary Clinton. Possibly the next president of the United States. Possibly the first female president of the United States. Possibly a man. Now, Hillary would rather you looked at her political track record and proposed policies before making a judgment on her presidential bid, but since no one is actually doing that, we (the helpless public) are forced to think about her man-boobs. Spectacular? Yes! Presidential? Eh? Take into consideration Teddy Roosevelt’s man-boobs (the gold standard), and Ms. Clinton’s seem paltry. Couple that with J. Edgar Hoover’s penchant for mini-skirts and makeup and Ms. Clinton starts looking more and more like my grade school gym teacher: Mr. Barbieri. Nothing against Mr. B. or anything, but few people have confused him with a woman. Of course Ms. Clinton’s campaign is not entirely based on whether she’s a woman. As she often points out, there are so many more substantial issues to explore. For instance, unlike her husband: she’s not secretly black. This, as it turns out, is a far more important issue than man-boobs because people who have man-boobs or even people who have mistreated people with man-boobs (unless profoundly color blind) all notice this. If only she played the saxophone, or at the very least… jazz flute! Then people would see past her pasty veneer and vibrato-less vocalizings. Instead they wince in pain as their eardrums bleed from the soulless sounds of her whiteness: the sounds of fingernails scraping against blackboards and Hall and Oats! God, make it stop! It’s enough to make anyone search for that smooth jazz station that we all secretly listen to when no one else is around; you know what I’m talking about: when you think to yourself: “somebody just say the word ’smooth’ in a deep basso-profundo and my soul will be cleansed! My soul, my soul, my soul!” If you’re lucky, you wake up at this point, realize it was all a very bad dream, and go back to dreaming about man-boobs. If you’re not, put a little Barry White on in the background the next time you plan on watching Hillary. Trust me, that shit is magic!

And finally there’s Barack. The only presidential candidate this term with a less suitable presidential name than Mike Huckabee: Barack Hussein Obama. You gotta give this guy some credit for making it this far with that messed up name. Why doesn’t he just add a Bin Laden in there while he’s at it? Or is that just being selfish? Actually Barack Hussein Obama Bin Laden has a nice ring to it, although I prefer Barack Hussein Obama Osama with the nice alliteration there at the end. Anyway, he’s not getting the redneck vote. That’s for sure. He can just kiss that constituency goodbye. Not that he needs them, because apparently EVERYBODY ELSE is going to vote for him. Now, according to my calculations that gives him abound fifty percent of the population–so he stands a chance. Anywho, the big knock against this guy is that he uses the word “Hope” a lot and sprinkles it with some “Change”. I don’t see what the big problem is with that sort of talk… I mean… I’m for hope! Aren’t you? If you’re against hope, I think you need to learn to CHANGE that frown from upside down and embrace HOPE. Because hope is good! What did hope ever do to you? Nothing but good! Feel the hope! Love the hope! Hope the hope! Just don’t CHANGE the HOPE! ‘Cause that would be BAD–it’s complicated. All that being said, he does have other policies that have people talking. For instance, there’s his policy of never appearing in public in a swimsuit again. This policy has drawn fierce criticism from his female constituents who claim: “if you’ve got it, flaunt it”; although it has drawn favorable remarks from his gay male constituents who point out: “he’s got a little jelly role”. TO BE CONTINUED…