 Hello Handsome!
You’re looking good, but we’ve got to be honest with each other. The campaign’s just not catching on. For goodness sakes, even my own daughter said that glacial Clinton woman was her favorite candidate. What is wrong with the American people?
It’s times like this that a man who wants to be president has to take a cold hard look at thing. When I’m president, I know the buck will stop with me and I’ll have to make the hard decisions. Thus, I have to conclude, however much it pains me to do so, that my staff sucks. Even though they’re working for the most talented, best looking and most good-hearted candidate in the field, they still can’t get it done. We’re not budging in the polls, and today, Joe Trippi sends out an email saying we’ve only raised $6 million this quarter. Obama and that glacial Clinton woman will both be above $25 million. The media narrative will be that I can’t compete.
And what’s Trippi thinking? That’s so Trippi, always cozying up to the boys in the media as the truth-teller so he can write his books and get his mug on TV. I’m supposed to be the one writing the books and getting his mug on TV.
My staff just doesn’t know how to form a competent media narrative. First, one of them arranges for a $400 haircut for me to be paid out of campaign funds. What’s wrong with these nitwits? John McCain and Russ Feingold went to all the bother of creating those 527’s. It’s rude of us not to use them. Then my staffers told me the best way to learn about poverty was to build a huge house and get half a million dollars for a part-time gig at a hedge fund. Like a fool, I listened to them. Everyone who knows me knows I’d be satisfied in a little shack, bald-headed and managing a mill.
That reminds me, during the 2004 campaign I insisted at a debate that my dream job was managing a mill. Now that was smooth! I have to admit, Handsome, you are good at this thing. How good? You almost talked your way onto the ticket in 2000, only a few months after entering the Senate.
In spite of my natural gifts, there’s no denying the campaign is stuck in the mud. The situation in Iowa is static, even though I’ve poured everything I have into it. And now the other two are going to have so much money, they’re going to be able to overwhelm me in the final months there.
How did things ever get to be like this? It is my destiny to rule! It’s true, I came along too late to be a monarch, but fate plays tricks on some souls. But everyone knows I was born to be a king. Since America doesn’t have kings, I have graciously agreed to serve her as president. And yet the rubes and yokels who make up this country may choose someone else.
You’re stressed, Handsome. I can tell it in your tone. That’s it – I’m going to take a day off. Hang out in John’s Lounge, make sure the chimney sweeps have gotten their act together or fire them. Either way, I’ll be cheered up. Maybe I’ll have the local theatre troupe put on their revival of “Annie Get Your Gun” on one of our house’s two stages. It will be great! We’ll invite some of the smelly rural neighbors that I pretend to like, maybe hand out complimentary toothbrushes and combs at the door as sort of a helpful hint about the importance of personal grooming, things that the yokels so often neglect.
I feel better already! Good to have you back on track, Handsome!
Compliments? Complaints? Contact me at Soxblog@aol.com.
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