There are two jobs I often find myself daydreaming about. One of them is being a radio talk show host. The other is being president of the United States.

Between the two, there are far more downsides to being the Commander in Chief. In fact, the main upside to my being president is that I’m the only person I know with whom I agree on all the major issues.

On the negative side of the ledger, there’s the weather in Washington, D.C. Living, as I do, in Los Angeles, I’m accustomed to wearing tennis shorts the year round. On top of which, I can’t remember the last time I put on a necktie. I’m not even sure if I still own one.

Then there’s the matter of raising half a billion dollars in order to even have a chance of getting elected. I have a certain amount of chutzpah, but, even so, I’m not sure I’m cut out to ask perfect strangers to cough up $500,000,000 just so I can get a job.

Furthermore, one can’t get around the fact that, as president, I would have to spend an inordinate amount of time in the company of such long-winded, sanctimonious gasbags as Charles Schumer, John Kerry, Barbara Boxer and Nancy Pelosi. And let us not overlook those mind-numbing press conferences. Just getting out of bed in the morning and knowing you’re going to have to put up with Helen Thomas later that same day must be as depressing as waking up the day on which root canal or a colonoscopy is scheduled.

Those are some of the reasons I am confounded by President Bush’s pussyfooting around with the Democrats. When the likes of Harry Reid and John Murtha announce that we’ve lost in Iraq, why doesn’t Bush denounce them as Fifth Columnists? What’s he got to lose? He’s got less than two years to go, and he continues sucking up to people who have spent the past six years calling him every name in the book. Even a lame duck doesn’t have to be that lame. He’s behaving like a high school nerd who, after three years of nonstop wedgies, is still trying to make the cool kids like him.

The best thing about me as president is that every time a Democrat accused me or a fellow conservative of doing something for political reasons -- which, on the face of it, is just about the silliest thing one politician can say about another -- I would use my bully pulpit to ridicule them. I would, for instance, point out that Harry Reid is totally beholden to Nevada’s gambling interests and the billboard industry; that Robert Byrd was a proud member of the Ku Klux Klan; that William Jefferson gave new meaning to the term “cold cash;” that Ted Kennedy let a young woman drown; and that Dianne Feinstein who, like all the other lefties, is all for repealing the Second Amendment, was once caught, like some gangster’s moll, packing a rod in her purse.

The fact of the matter is that virtually everyone in our nation’s capitol has feet of clay, and there’s nothing I can think of that would be more fun than stepping on their little clay toes.

Some of you are probably shaking your head and going “tsk tsk.” My approach, I’m guessing, doesn’t strike you as being appropriately diplomatic and statesmanlike. And you’d be right. When I hear that President Bush has called Senator Kennedy the most effective legislator in Washington, it makes me gag. You can call it tactful, but I call it shameless pandering. What’s more, when he insists that Islam is a religion of peace, I want to slap him silly.

The truth is, my chances of becoming president are even worse than John McCain’s. Besides, all things considered, I’d really prefer to have my own talk show. The hang-up with that particular gig would be having to pronounce certain names in the news. I can barely handle my own name, but I’d really need to take a deep breath and a running start in order to get through a minefield consisting of such tongue-twisters as Seung-hui Cho, Pervez Musharraf and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.