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Me For President

The opinions expressed by columnists are their own and do not necessarily represent the views of

America is in such deep trouble that it appears that the only solution to save this great nation is for me to jump into the election. My slogan: “You could do a lot worse, and frankly, you’re almost certainly going to.”


As I reluctantly accept the nomination of my new party, which for lack of a better name I shall dub “The Keg Party,” it’s important to point out that the fact that I am a demonstrably superior candidate in nearly every way to any of those currently running is not a reflection of my awesomeness. Rather, it is a damning indictment – someone go explain to James Comey what that word means because I’m not sure he understands – of our collective decision to forgo actual leadership and instead invest power in one of four sad sacks who aren’t fit to sand George Washington’s wooden molars.

First, let’s look at experience. Now, Hillary has a lot of experience. She’s been a failed First Lady. She’s been a failed senator. She’s been a failed Secretary of State. No, I have none of those experiences. Advantage, me.

I was in the Army for 28 years and graduated with a masters from the Army War College. Donald Trump learned the art of command watching “the shows.” He also wants to fire a bunch of generals and bring back pillaging those we conquer. So we’ll call that a tie.

Gary Johnson thinks we should never use the military unless one of the original 13 colonies is invaded by zombie King George III. He also likes pot, though it’s hard to imagine a chronically chronic’d CINC being worse than the one we have now.


Now, who is this Dr. Jill Stein again?

Then there is the issue of who understands basic security protocols. I had a security clearance and worked with classified material. So did Hillary. Unfortunately, she worked with classified material using her account and her Jitterbug phone.

Trump is aces on computer security since he apparently doesn’t send emails and only uses the Interneting machine to make tweets. He also demonstrates his mastery of foreign languages in those little 140-character messages. Wait, what? He thinks he’s tweeting in English? Sad!

Gary Johnson made a bong out of his Apple II.

Seriously, who is Dr. Jill Stein?

How about honesty? I’m a Los Angeles trial lawyer, and both Hillary and Trump are demonstrably more corrupt than I am. Let that roll around in your head for a while.

Gary Johnson is honest as the day is long; when he says “That’s an ounce of bud, dude,” you know you’re scoring a full ounce of killer kush.

This Dr. Jill Stein isn’t really a thing, is she?

Then there’s ideology. I’m a conservative. Hillary’s a liberal. Donald Trump is a Donald Trump. Gary Johnson is a libertarian who doesn’t believe in liberty except when it involves chemtrails or hemp. And Dr. Jill Stein? Who can say, but it’s going to be some commie nonsense.


Finally, there’s health. I can totally climb stairs and get into my SUV. My coughing fits last mere seconds. I don’t have a handler to keep me from wandering off after squirrels. Were the FBI to ask me stuff, I think I’d remember. My liver’s fine.

Then there’s poor, sick, tired Hillary. She’s not well. I’m deeply concerned that the rigors of the campaign are taking a toll on her. Maybe she could use a lozenge for that cough. And some sleep. And a juice cleanse.

Trump looks good for a guy his age. I mean, clearly he’s a vital and strong-like-bull kind of guy. If he weren’t, why would Melania stick with him? His raw physical energy is obviously the foundation of their relationship.

Gary Johnson is in remarkable shape for someone whose lungs have taken such a pounding.

Dr. Jill Stein probably follows some sort of weird diet that involves roots and twigs. See, you don’t want to go there. When Bill Clinton was president, for all his faults, he had the healthy glow and jaunty demeanor of a man who savored Big Macs. Now he’s on some vegan regimen and he looks like the Cryptkeeper’s dank bro.

In short, objectively, I am a significantly better choice for president than any of these people. Which means that pretty much anyone is a significantly better choice for president than any of these people. Basically, I am an Evan McMullin who drunks don’t bother at bars trying to get him to karaoke “Beds Are Burning.”


Evan’s a great guy – I’m first in line to donate when he runs for Congress – but here’s a newsflash. He’s not going to win. Nor are Johnson or Stein. So it’s either Donald Trump or old, sick Hillary, and it’s never, ever going to be Hillary if I have anything to say about it.

That means I have to vote for Trump.

So Gary, can you please pass the dutchie from the left hand side?

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