Where are All the Billionaire Candidates?

Mike Bloomberg is not running for president.

Let that sink in.

This means we only have Howard Schultz. We only have one fatuous billionaire to not vote for on the Democratic ticket in 2020.

How are we going to get through the election cycle with only one narcissistic, out-of-touch, ignorant, bloviating, pontificating, flatulent, misguided, egocentric, shit-for-brains, fuckwit billionaire to mock and spew our bile at? We’re doomed.

This is the American form of democracy. It all breaks down if billionaires aren’t trying to buy the presidency. I know that the rest of the 73 candidates are likely millionaires. So what? A millionaire compared to a billionaire is like watching the Andy Griffith Show after Don Knotts left or requesting to listen to heavy metal music and they play Bon Jovi. It’s not the same.

We need more clueless, unwanted, nefarious, criminal, uncaring, pettifogging, arrogant, oily, humorless, morally bankrupt assclown billionaires to revile and send home to cry in their bitcoins.

CNN, MSNBC, FOX and other news outlets have hours of airtime to fill with the recitation of stupid ideas, made up stories, false equivalencies and lies wrapped in prevarication. Who better to present this literally unbelievable information than billionaires who haven’t spoken to a regular American since they excoriated the parking valet at their private club for leaving a palm print on their Bugatti.

The Democrats are going to run a thousand different candidates up the flag pole to see which one can flap in the breeze strong enough to defeat Captain Meathead in 2020. More of them need to be billionaires to show us definitively who not to vote for, who can’t run the country, and who needs to hide away in their mansion and shut the hell up.

Jeff Flake and Susan Collins Go to Dinner

Waiter to Susan Collins: What can I get for you?

Susan Collins: Nothing too spicy, but nothing too bland. Not sure yet.

Waiter to Jeff Flake: Are you ready to order sir?

Jeff Flake: I don’t need a menu, I’ll have the alfredo.

Two women behind Flake begin chanting.

Two women: Jeff Flake he’s the best, he would never order without seeing the rest.

Jeff Flake: Perhaps you’re right. I will look at a menu.

The women begin swaying in unison and singing.

Two women: Jeff Flake we love you, oh yes we do . . .

Jeff Flake, eyes misting: This is such an important decision. I don’t want to be locked in a room and forced into anything. I’d like to bring my wife down to the restaurant and get her input.

Waiter: What?

Susan Collins: Hmmm, such a difficult decision. I’m going to call Chuck Grassley for advice.

Collins gets out her cell phone.

Susan Collins: Chuck?

Chuck Grassley: Can’t talk now Susie Q. Just told a democrat to piss off and it gave me a hard-on. First one since ‘06! Taking advantage and jerkin’ it as we speak.

Susan Collins: Jerkin’ it?

Chuck Grassley: You know what I mean; you’ve been doing it to Maine for years. Ohhhhh Louie CK! Damn that felt good.

Susan Collins: Well, he was no help.

Waiter: I just need a dinner selection . . .

Susan Collins: I need time to study this menu. It’s so voluminous it’s like being assaulted. And this separate list of specials keeps staring at me.

Jeff Flake: My wife is here.

Waiter: Why don’t you just have the salmon? It was Mr. Weinstein’s favorite.

Jeff Flake to his wife: Honey, could you please investigate the dinner choices? Take your time.

Two women: Jeff Flake, he’s our man, he listens to women . . . sort of

Flake’s wife: I’m doing this against my will. I’ll be back in five minutes.

Jeff Flake: That’s fine, but if the beef looks fraudulent in any way, I don’t want it.

Susan Collins to waiter: What do you think?

Waiter: I wish you two weren’t my customers.

Susan Collins: Do they massage, braise, bruise, touch or lick the chicken breast before cooking it?

Waiter: Why would they . . .

Jeff Flake: Oh good. My wife is back.

Two women: Jeff Flake . . . we thought he’d do the right thing

Flake’s wife: Get the Cobb salad.

Jeff Flake: Did you check out the kitchen?

Flake’s wife: No.

Jeff Flake: Did you sample any of the food?

Flake’s wife: No.

Jeff Flake: Did you speak to the chef?

Flake’s wife: No.

Jeff Flake: Good enough for me. Waiter, I’ll have the Cobb salad. I feel drunk with power right now.

Flake’s wife: I feel used. I’m going home.

Two women: Jeff Flake, he was our man, until he let us down . . . again

Waiter: One Cobb salad. And for the lady?

Susan Collins: This is the hardest decision I’ve ever had.

Waiter: It’s dinner.

Susan Collins: The chicken would be the intelligent and respectable choice. But the T-bone steak just keeps yelling at me. It makes me feel dirty.

Waiter: So, the steak then?

Susan Collins: I’m leaning that way but . . .

Mitch McConnell walks by . . .

Mitch McConnell: Get the ghost pepper chili Suze, it’ll put hair on your chest.

Susan Collins: I don’t know.

Susan’s seat is surrounded by Lindsey Graham, Orrin Hatch, John Cornyn and Joe Manchin

Lindsey Graham: Get the chili Susie, it’s good for you.

John Cornyn: Get her a bowel of the chili.

Orrin Hatch: It’s what she wants, and she knows it.

Mitch McConnell:  Even Manchin ordered it and he’s a liberal.

Susan Collins: All right, I’ll take the chili.

Lindsey Graham: That a girl.

Mitch McConnell: Come on boys, let’s get some beer.

Negative Nancy Runs for Office

We only have a week before the national nightmare of this election cycle will be over. I should be breathing easier. Seven short days and we get at least a few months before the 2020 cycle begins. And yet I can’t relax. I’m so tired, like my blood has been replaced by Gummi bears.

I was writing a lot about the candidates during the primaries but I got lost in the swamp of stupidity and arrogance. It took me a long time to climb my way back out into the sunlight. And yet the sun isn’t as bright as it should be. Every day I’m battered by commercials on radio and television about this candidate or the other one. And it’s not just the presidential race, its state campaigns.

“Bill Fenstermacher eats pickles in bed!”

“Jane Woebegone makes cat videos in her attic!”

“Clancy Chigger voted against new hats for railroad conductors!”

“Bill Fenstermacher used to work as a carnival freak called ‘Billy the Goat Boy’!”

“Diane Loosescrew wants to tax your toe nail clippings!”

“Jane Woebegone shops at Target with your tax payer money!”

“Clancy Chigger knows what you need . . . because he’s a stalker!”

“Diane Loosescrew has an ingrown nose hair. She’ll never survive a full term!”

All day, every day, it’s a bloodbath of negativity splashed across my face. I grab a towel to wipe it away but it smears like melted chocolate until my whole head is covered in electoral slime.

“Larry Bungle sold crystal meth to panda bears!”

“Francine Fuss wants to give our jobs to migrant ornithologists!”

“Larry Bungle and his brother Harry share 1 pair of socks!”

“Francine Fuss feels fairly fine with festering fish fouling fresh water!”

Make it stop! It sticks to my skin and won’t wash off. All the yelling and name calling and lies and acting . . .

“Did you know Harold Megawealthyman bought his position as county lunatic?”

“Sarah Hatespeople wants to force us all to love pumpkin spice!”

Voter down! Voter down! I need platforms and policy papers. I need voting records and plans for strengthening infrastructure. Stop the insults! Stop lying! Stop with the fear-mongering! Dorothy? Dorothy, where’s Toto? We have to get home! The flying monkeys are coming, click your heels together!!!

Who You Got?

Donald Trump, a cross between a russet potato and a Clementine, seems to be the likely republican candidate for president. Ted “Haters Gonna Hate” Cruz and John “Someone please vote for me” Kasich are still hanging around, even conspiring to form an unholy alliance predicted by Nostradamus.

On the democratic side Hillary Clinton, playing the woman card by being an actual woman, is inching closer to her party’s nomination with big wins in Pennsylvania, Delaware and Maryland last Tuesday. Bernie Sanders and his dream of “Crazy Bernie’s Discount America: everything must go and it’s FREE!” is still alive, but is taking on water like a fishing boat in a storm.

In the middle of all this are the American people: Divided, angry, and disorganized. “Who do we vote for?” we ask ourselves. Should we vote for the most heinous man walking the planet or Donald Trump? John Kasich? Nah, no one’s asking that.

Maybe we should vote for the first female president in American history? How about the first president that sounds like Larry David? (I don’t think the founding fathers saw that one coming)

In November 2016 we will vote for someone. When it’s all over some Americans will be happy, some will be disappointed. Many will shrug their shoulders and mumble into their Fruit Loops. Others will still be watching the USA network marathon of NCIS and will have forgotten to vote.

In January of 2017 a new president will be sworn in. It may be a woman, it may be a man, or it may be whatever Ted Cruz is. One thing is certain: whoever we elect is well and truly fucked.

This is Where We Are

What to make of this election cycle. Casaba melon in a bad toupee Donald Trump is still the Republican front runner.

Reptilian car salesman Ted Cruz is in second, staying just close enough to give people a reason to concoct Machiavellian scenarios to blow up the Republican convention.

John Kasich is also still participating.

On the Democratic side Hillary’s pant suits have gained sentience and are actually campaigning for her in various states. A sky blue ensemble did an interview on CNN the other day. Don Lemon was 45 minutes into it before he realized he was talking to a JC Penney summer special.

Everyone’s grandpa who gives out ribbon candy at Halloween, Bernie Sanders, continues his turns so far left NASCAR drivers won’t follow him. He spouts his goals with belief and vehemence but gives little information on how he’s going to accomplish them.

What does it all mean?

On the Democratic side, Hillary is the insider front-runner with shady dealings in her past, a machine behind her pushing her forward and the only candidate with both domestic and foreign policy experience.

Bernie has ideas that sound wonderful: free college tuition, free healthcare, etc. The only way to pay for it all is tax increases. So Bernie wants to tax the rich, but the rich don’t like to be taxed. That’s how they stay rich. Also many policy experts say his ideas won’t bring in enough revenue to cover his plans.

Backers of both candidates, instead of coming together, are sniping at one another. Bernie supporters are saying if Hillary wins the nomination they won’t vote for her. The American voter: an infant who lost their lolly.

As for the Republicans, Donald Trump is a hateful, bigoted, grand-standing egomaniac whose election to president could destroy the country.

Ted Cruz may be even worse.

Republican voters don’t know what to do. The racist wing of the party is good with Trump and all of his horseshit because it matches their own horseshit world view. The Evangelical wing of the party is leaning to Cruz even though they feel he may be the Devil incarnate. There are indications the convention could be a madhouse.

With all these candidates’ limitations and foibles, with the electorate dissatisfied, disenchanted and drained from a process that is too long, with the primary season in chaos, could John Kasich become president?

No.

Lolla-Presidential Candidate-Palooza

I’m so bored with the election bullshit I decided to cast the candidates as members of a band. Just go with me on this one. The alternative is thinking about Trump as president.

Ladies and gentlemen welcome to Lolla-presidential candidate-palooza. We have 6 great bands performing for you tonight. Let’s meet them before we start the festivities:

It’s Marco Rubio, new lead singer for En Fuego, a Latino boy band that sings about love, girls and defunding Planned Parenthood.

Please welcome Donald Trump, lead vocals for Build the Wall, a neo-Nazi grindcore band with lyrics like “We’re great! We’re great! Build the Wall! Exterminate!”

And now it’s Ted Cruz playing tambourine and singing back-up for Christian soft-rock combo Aaron, Joseph, Noah and Isaac. They play mainly VFW halls and birthday parties for conservative fringe groups run by millionaire donors.

John Kasich is next playing stand-up bass in a fifties revival group called Johnny Bland and the Forgettables. Their big hit is “I Can’t Quit the Primary”.

Let’s welcome Bernie Sanders to the stage harmonizing hits from the 40s with his cousins Ernie and Fernie. They perform as Mazel Tov!, mostly in kosher delis and at the occasional bris.

Our last performer is Hillary Clinton singing the hits of Nancy Sinatra from her Las Vegas show with her back-up band the Benghazi Four (formerly known as the Whitewater Trio).

Now to open the show please welcome Martin O’Malley, Chris Christie, Bobby Jindal, Mike Huckabee, Ben Carson, Lincoln Chaffee, Lindsey Graham, Carly Fiorina and Jim Webb as the Loserville Chorus performing their number 1 hit, “What Were We Thinking?”

And then There Were 3 . . . or 5

Let’s check on the Republican presidential race after 3 primaries:

Jeb! Has become Jeb L

Carly Fiorina has been downsized and is currently using an Acer notebook to forward cat videos to the sad people who donated money to her campaign.

Chris Christie is at the local Golden Corral drowning his sorrows in beef gravy.

John Kasich is stubbornly remaining in the race. He’s running on one leg, dragging the second behind him like a dead tree limb and carrying a bag of second graders on his back, but he’s still there.

Ben Carson is also for some reason sticking around. He hasn’t polled above 7% in any primary, he doesn’t do well in the debates and he has terrible ideas. The old saying is 2 out of 3 ain’t bad. 0 out of 3 means it’s time to pack up your shit and go home.

Oh, and Jim Webb dropped out. Not much to say about that since no one knew Jim Webb was running. No real grass roots movement for ol’ Jim. More like a patch of weeds forcing its way up between the cracks of a broken sidewalk. The voters shot it with weed killer and he’s gone.

The big three remain: Donald Trump, Ted Cruz and Marco Rubio. It’s quite a choice the voters have. Cast your ballot either for a talking orangutan, an oil stain on the garage floor or Ricky Ricardo. Sorry but the last Republican debate I just kept waiting for Rubio to look at Trump and yell, “Lucy! You got some splaining to do!” That would have been sweet.

Good luck voters, there are no winners here.

WTF New Hampshire?

New Hampshire, WTF?

38% of the republican votes in your primary went to vile mound of human excrement in a suit, Donald Trump. New Hampshire's motto has apparently changed from "Live free or Die" to "Live Free as long as you're a white male and if you're anyone else then die" Trump celebrated his victory by throwing chunks of granite at the press while yelling "I love New Trumpshire!"

Voting for a radish would have been a better use of your voting privilege. I know you people run around drunk on maple syrup all day, but come on, this election shit is serious. This isn’t an Adam Sandler movie. That isn’t Sandler in a cheap wig with Kevin James and David Spade standing next to him on the debate stage. You aren’t extras applying for a SAG card. You’re supposed to be voting for who you want to be president, not whether they should build a water treatment plant on Earl’s turnip field.

I really expected better of you New Hampshire. Oh well, At least you got Chris Christie and Carly Fiorina to drop out and stop pestering us with their nonsense. The next debate may resemble a real debate and not open mic night at the Ha Ha Hut.

Thinning the Herd

We all saw this day coming. The bunting was taken down in the middle of the night before all the votes were counted. The doe-eyed, idealistic, young volunteers were sent on their way with a pat on the head and a handful of Applebee’s coupons. The spouses have been dressed in their finest “it’s over” outfits, the concession suits have been pulled from their suitcases. Yes, as a nation we need to take a deep breath of Iowa air filled with animal fecal matter and accept that we’ve lost 2 more.

Martin O’Malley from the democratic side and Mike Huckabee from the republican side.

Two presidential candidates no one ever gave a damn about have finally heard our mumbles of apathy.

This is Martin’s first run at the presidency so I’m sure it will be tougher on him, that fact that he wasted so much money and time and got through to basically nobody. And only getting 8 out of 1400 votes cast has got to be like Bernie Sanders twisting a pair of pliers on his nut sack.

For Huckabee? Well, he’s an old hand at this. This is presidential campaign number 2 that’s caught on fire like a stack of old rubber tires and burned the night away, leaving behind only the acrid, oily smell of condescension and bigotry.

These men will now be gone from the campaign trail and we will not miss them. We won’t miss Martin’s lack of personality or coherent message. We won’t miss him not having a valid reason for running for president in a season that has a Clinton and grass roots favorite Bernie Sanders as opponents. We won’t miss the twinkle in Mike Huckabee’s eyes that was him saying “Listen to me, I’m smarter than you.” We won’t miss his unwavering support of Josh Duggar who molested his sisters, cheated on his wife and apparently liked having sex so rough even hookers didn’t want his money. Money made from working at the Family Research Council. Mike Huckabee supports that.

Goodbye to two more of the rogue’s gallery of idiots who thought they could be president. We didn’t want you, we don’t need you, we’re not sorry you’re gone.

Who’s next? I’m looking at you Chris Christie, Jeb Bush, Carly Fiorina and Rick Santorum. Rick Santorum? Are you serious? He’s another nut sack for another day.

John Kasich in No Man's Land

Did you know John Kasich is still in the presidential race?

Did you know John Kasich was in the race at all?

Do you know who John Kasich is?

These and more important questions will be answered in today’s edition of “Why are you running for president?”

John Kasich is the governor of Ohio. He’s currently polling at 6% for the presidential race. That’s out of 100. So 94% of decided voters have rejected John Kasich but he’s OK with that because of another number. 40% of independent voters in New Hampshire haven’t made up their mind yet. John apparently believes he’s going to convince all 40% to vote for him which is what it will take for him to overtake racist lump of mashed potatoes Donald Trump.

Those independent voters aren’t as independent as they want you to think they are. They say “I don’t know who to vote for yet”, but my bet is the majority have made up their mind and it will be for one of the front-runners. To be contrary and convince their neighbors they’re the last of a dying breed, they’ll harrumph and pettifog until Election Day and then cast their ballot for Trump or pizza box grease spot Ted Cruz.

Once again I believe you need name recognition before you run for president and Kasich doesn’t have it. At this point Trump has blared his vile rhetoric like a foghorn through a stack of Marshall amps for months. Ted Cruz has slithered into the hearts and minds of people who are dead inside and infested their thinking like mad cow disease to the tune of double digit support. Ben Carson has put a fine edge on his dullness by spewing batshit crazy slime trails of wisdom on social media that has somehow vaulted him into a distant 3rd.

And then there’s everyone else which includes John Kasich. Sorry guvnor, you’ve been rejected and are now yet another vain man wasting time and money on a pipe dream.

The Campaign of Martin O’Malley: Move Along, Nothing to See Here

Democratic presidential candidate Martin O’Malley recently held an “event” in Iowa where one person showed up. They chatted for a while and even with one-on-one attention he still couldn’t convince the gentleman to vote for him. I imagine it went something like this:

O’Malley: Hey, thank you for coming out in this bad weather.

Voter: I’m not voting for you.

O’Malley: Uh, ok . . .

Voter: I’m here ‘cause ya got muffins.

O’Malley: Muffins?

Voter: I like muffins. Blueberry.

O’Malley: All right.

Voter: What’s your name again?

O’Malley: Martin O’Malley.

Voter: Could you pass the butter Marty? I like butter on my muffins.

O’Malley: Sure.

Voter: The wife won’t let me have butter.

O’Malley: Here you go.

Voter: You got any marmalade?

O’Malley: Security!

I knew the day that O’Malley announced his candidacy that this is where we would end up. There are only a handful of politicians who are national names and O’Malley isn’t one of them. I haven’t even seen one person who lived in Maryland when he was governor who says they would vote for him. Again I ask, where does the hubris of these men come from? How much money that could have gone to a charitable use has been wasted because of Martin O’Malley’s ego?

I didn’t watch any of the debates but I’ve heard people say O’Malley acquitted himself nicely at times. But at this stage that’s not enough to defeat the comedy team of Hillary and Bernie. Or Bernie and Hillary. The billing seems to change on a daily basis. Martin O’Malley’s not even the opening act. He’s the guy who performs for free on the boardwalk hoping a few voters will throw a dollar in his hat after his treatise on immigration, and then stick around for his gun control closer.

I read that in the last debate a few days ago there was a question that both Bernie and Hillary were allowed to fully answer but before O’Malley could answer NBC cut to a commercial. They forgot he was part of the debate.

Director: Annnnnd . . . go to commercial.

Assistant: What about the other guy’s answer?

Director: What other guy?

Assistant: The tall one on stage behind a podium.

Director: How did he get on stage? Security!

Assistant: I think he’s running . . .

Director: He can run but he can’t hide.

Assistant: Never mind . . .

He’s on a stage and no one can see him. He speaks into a microphone but no one can hear his voice. This is Martin O’Malley’s candidacy.

Goodbye George Pataki

Over the past few weeks I took a break from the presidential candidates to enjoy my Christmas and New Year celebrations. Now that the bunting has all been taken down, the empty boxes have been given to the toddlers and cats and restaurant gift cards burned through so we could eat something besides turkey, mashed potatoes and rum balls, its back to normal life.

Sadly it seems the presidential campaigns are still going on and not much has changed. It’s the same lying, bloviating and unartful bullshit. And that’s just Donald Trump. Who knows what the other candidates are doing. Seriously, who knows? The news doesn’t cover anyone else. If Ted Cruz locked himself in a missile silo in North Dakota and declared himself Grand Poobah of the Black Hills we wouldn’t know because the networks would be covering Trump snipping his toe nails before bed.

We lost another candidate recently. George Pataki killed his campaign. Well, voter apathy killed his campaign. The fact that almost no one knew he was running killed his chances. Supposedly he had a team working for him but no one has come forward to admit to it. There was an announcement made when he chose to run, reportedly, but I doubt it. I mean I saw the press conference when Lincoln “Hello Rhode Island” Chaffee announced he was running but I didn’t see a video, photo or daguerreotype of Pataki’s announcement.

 I think in George’s mind he was running for President, but he forgot to tell everyone else. The speeches he allegedly gave? I believe he was in his basement surrounded by his grandchildren’s stuffed animals, standing on an overturned laundry basket laying out his plan for immigration reform. I hear the elephant and Elmo walked out to go see Carly Fiorina in her pantry discussing gun control to cans of peas and corn.

George is another in a too-long line of men wasting time and money on a dream they had no chance of attaining. None of these failed campaigns are surprises. I don’t understand the folly of these men. Are their egos so massive they can’t see the Petrified Forest for America’s dismissal of their electability? Most of them have committees to explore whether running is viable. What do these committees say to them? Don’t any of them have the courage to tell the truth?

“Yeah, George, see it’s like this. Almost no one, and I mean NO ONE, knows who you are. And those that do . . . won’t vote for you. So . . . Murray and I are going to take off, grab a bite to eat, maybe catch a movie before polishing up the resumes. These past few days have been fun, and, good luck not running for President.”

Goodbye George Pataki, we hardly knew you. And apparently we didn’t want to.

A Pool of Cruz Oil

Human oil slick Ted Cruz has been oozing his way up the polls, his opponents slipping on the industrial grade grease dripping from his hair. Cruz’s reedy, unctuous voice has also taken its toll on the ears of his fellow politicians, causing a pain not unlike having a peppercorn stuck in your auditory canal.

Cruz is running on a platform of being a terrible human being who is completely untrustworthy. Iowans have recently taken to his utter lack of charm, grace, or competence. Ted Cruz is to republican voters what Donald Trump is to republican voters, only with more unguent.

Ted Cruz thinks it’s funny to tell demeaning jokes at the beginning of his speeches. You may say that I’m doing the same thing with Cruz as the target. True. The difference is I’m nobody, writing words that 11 people will read and he wants to be President of the United States. The office calls for dignity. I can write in my pajamas with cereal dust in my beard and no one will be the wiser.

No one in his own party likes him. More to the point, they loathe him. Cruz calls himself “a Washington outsider” and someone “who sticks to his principals”. Other Republicans call him an “asshole” and someone “with a rod so far up his ass he can taste his own shit”.

Cruz is a climate change denier. He’s done interviews where he presents what he calls “facts”. Leading climate scientists call them “lies”. So he lies to push his own pre-conceived agenda and gain votes from like-minded non-thinkers. Does that sound like a Washington outsider? No, it sounds like every politician.

Be careful where you walk, you might step in a pool of Cruz oil.

Lindsey Can't Win

Did you know that Lindsey Graham is still running for the Republican nomination for president?

Even though others like Bobby Jindal and Lincoln Chaffee have seen the gigantic writing on the Brobdingnagian wall and dropped out of the race, Lindsey soldiers on. His supporters say he is a fighter.

Others use the word “delusional”.

There are days when his polling statistics are so low he doesn’t register as existing. The pundits need to use Newtonian calculus to create an imaginary number for him. On these days Lindsey begins to fade away like Michael J. Fox in Back to the Future. Lindsey is polling around 2% on average. To put that in perspective I have a pair of Reebok running shoes that are polling at 3.5%. Doing really well with pipe fitters and longshoremen.

TV news programs regularly interview Donald Trump and Ben Carson, even climbing down into a hole to speak to talking stalagmite Ted Cruz. They don’t speak to Lindsey. They don’t show Lindsey’s latest campaign stop, his speeches, or his photo ops. They don’t take his calls, read his texts or sign for his registered letters. Like frustrated but patient parents who are trying to teach their child a lesson, the networks don’t pay attention to Lindsey when he’s jumping up and down behind them holding a sign reading: “I’m Lindsey Graham and I’m running for President. Can I get a Hell Yeah?!”

Lindsey likes to start sentences with “When I’m President . . .” or “The first thing I’ll do when I’m President . . .” Oh Lindsey. That’s never going to happen. There are 117 Republican candidates and only 3 of them have caught at least 10% of the public’s interest. The rest of you are a bouillabaisse of ennui, bad ideas and cheap suits.

Find a hobby Mr. Graham. Do crossword puzzles, take a spin class, find a buddy to get drunk with on cheap bourbon and pickled eggs. Just stop running for president because you can’t win.

Another One Bites the Dust

Another presidential candidate has bitten the dust. Bobby Jindal ended his bid for the republican nomination.

Bobby Jindal. Do you know who I’m talking about? Governor of Louisiana. Indian descent. Will use any political talking point to get attention but never actually DO anything.

It’s not surprising you can’t place him. He was polling just behind a garden rake from Tuscaloosa that was running on a platform of branding leaf blowers as terrorists.

During the debates Bobby was like the last child seated at the kid’s dinner table at Thanksgiving. He was that cousin that no one really knew because the family lived 2000 miles away and only visited over the Holidays. The kid that used the mashed potatoes as paste to glue his turkey and ham together in an abominable hybrid of two beloved meats and then smiled with palpable evil as he flung it at the 16 year old daughter of the host who just missed making the cut for the adult’s table. If only great Aunt Lorraine hadn’t shown up at the last minute.

This was Bobby Jindal. The desperate wanna-be, the never-was, never-had-a-chance, the why-bother money-waster, the time-stealer, the zero-excitement-generating no-new-ideas-bringing no one listens when he talks dictionary definition of just one more politician with no self-awareness.

Bobby Jindal whose campaign slogan could have been:

Bobby Jindal: I’m a Real Person!

Bobby Jindal, who, while talking to any crowd, always had a look on his face that said “Is this mike on?”

Bobby Jindal, who announced his candidacy by surreptitiously filming his family’s befuddled reaction when he told them he was running and then showed it to the world like he was Ashton Kutcher punking his own children. Parenting with a twist of assholishness.

To the 811 people who were supporting Bobby’s run, seek help immediately. You have deep, troubling problems that can only be solved with group therapy and pharmaceutical grade hallucinogens. Godspeed.

Bye bye Bobby.

Run Jim Run

That was a close one people. We almost had this election cycle without him. I know, I know, you’re saying to yourself “How could we have had a presidential election without HIM?” The simple answer is: we couldn’t. This whole enterprise was going to fall like a house of cards eventually.

The announcement was made yesterday and the party has just begun. The bunting is still being hung, cheese platters are being constructed, bands of questionable ability and provenance are tuning guitars, and crisply dressed college-age voters are sharing drinks and salutations.

Jim Gilmore has announced his candidacy for president.

“Who is Jim Gilmore?” you ask.

I have no fucking clue.

But make no mistake he’s the one we’ve been waiting for. The other 21 num-nuts running can’t do the job. Hilary Clinton was first lady and later the secretary of state. Pah! What kind of qualifications are they? Bernie Sanders has been in congress for 24 years. So? Lindsey Graham has been in congress for 20 years. Yeah, and?

Jim Gilmore used to be governor.

Of Virginia.

I’ll now quote from the Book of Republican, 8^th chapter, verses 5 and 6:

5 “And the day will come when he walks the land of strife and discord, and lo he will know he has been called. Called to be “the one”, the candidate to end all candidates, the lambda and the epsilon. 6 And he will heed the call of the stricken sheep and announce his presence with authority.

The celebration has started well and true. Mandy Patinkin is drunkenly singing “Over the Rainbow”. A conga line of elderly women are risking broken hips to dance up and down the street. Socially conscious teenagers are furiously scrolling Wikipedia to learn who this latest old white man is whose running for president. It’s a glorious day here in the United States of America.

Jim Gilmore is here to run the country and stay relevant, and he’s all out of relevance.

First Impressions

With so many candidates running for president I thought it was about time I got a feel for what people thought of this motley crew of skin and plasma. So I pretended to do a series of man-on-the-street interviews. Here are the responses I believe I would have gotten if I had actually done said interviews.

Democratic candidates

Hillary Clinton—“Another Clinton? God help us.”

Joe Biden—“He’s like a thousand years old, no.”

Bernie Sanders—a very small group of people-“Woohoo!” The rest of the country-“I. Don’t. Think. So.”

Martin O’Malley—people who live in Maryland-“Uh, no.” The rest of the country-“Who?”

Republican candidates

Jeb Bush—“Wait, is he related to the other Bush’s? Aw, hell no!”

Ben Carson—“Hmm, he’s a neurosurgeon so he has to be smart. He said what? He compared people who voted for Obama to Nazis and thinks the affordable care act is worse than 9/11? Never mind.”

Ted Cruz—“No, no, no, no, no, no, no.”

Rand Paul—“We get our bourbon from Kentucky, not our presidents.”

Bobbie Jindal—“You can’t be serious.”

Donald Trump—“Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! That’s a good one. Donald Trump running for president. Ha! You got me.”

Chris Christie—“Oh I remember him, the idiot from New Jersey.”

Rick Perry—“Oh I remember him, the idiot from Texas.”

Scott Walker—“Oh I remember him, the idiot from Wisconsin.”

Mike Huckabee—“Oh I remember him, the idiot from Arkansas. No, not that idiot, the Republican one.”

Carly Fiorina— “Worst. CEO. Ever.”

Lindsay Graham—“I’ve heard the name, but I thought it was an actress on a soap opera.”

George Pataki —“I can’t vote for someone whose skin looks like it’s melting off his skull.”

Marco Rubio—“Is this the guy who sang Living la Vida Loca?”

Rick Santorum—“Ewwww.”

Lincoln Chafee—“If I never heard of Martin O’Malley what makes you think I’ve heard of Lakeland Chafing?”

Jim Webb—“This is getting silly.”

Bob Ehrlich—“Really, who are these people?”

Mark Everson—“Now you’re just making names up.”

Jim Gilmore—“This game stopped being fun 10 candidates ago.”

John Kasich —“I’m not playing anymore.”

Pete King—“Seriously, stop it.”