Call Me E.

Politics Schmolitics

The State of the Union address. I don't watch it. Why? That is a tough question to answer. I think it's because I hate politics and I hate politicians. This current boob, W., is the latest in a long line of nincompoops.

Most of my friends think that I am a gun toting, right-wing bastard. I think it's because I hunt once in a while and have a terrible .357 Magnum revolver fetish. It's true. I have more of them than I care to admit. I haven't shot anyone yet, I just like firing them off in the dark because I get mesmerized by the noise and the bright blue flash in the darkness. It's a lot of fun shooting them off in the mountains. The echo can last for 30 seconds or more.

My family thinks that I'm a left-wing, granola-eating freak because once in a while I suggest that to solve the "Middle East problem" and the global warming problem is by perfecting the hydrogen cell for automobile use.

To set the record straight, I am neither. If I have to label myself, I'd choose anarchist. I have not voted for a member of either major party for any office in more than 10 years. I see little difference between a Democrat and a Republican other than the obvious abortion issue.

All of this aside, I would like to help the Democrats elect a new president in 2008. Why do you ask? Well, in true anarchist form, a Democratic president could veto all of the bullshit legislation the the Republicans in the House and Senate would send him.

How you ask? I'm glad you asked. Now, you might think I'm kidding because I get e-mails all the time about all of the fiction I write for this Web site. Let me make one thing clear, I am completely serious with the following suggestions for the Democratic National Committee.

First. DO NOT NOMINATE HILLARY CLINTON. I know it makes me sound like a sexist, but America is not ready to vote for a woman president and least of all her.

Second. That last boob you ran had two major flaws. 1) John Kerry looked like Frankenstein's monster to me. Every time he was on the television, I wanted to light a torch, grab a pitchfork, and go after him. 2) His wife was the 399th richest person in America according to Forbes magazine thus making him the 399th wealthiest husband in America. You can't sell yourself as the party of the little guy when your nominee is one of the richest people in the world.

Get a short, young, poor guy who didn't go to an Ivy League college. As a poor bastard, I can get behind that.

Third. Buy a NASCAR team for the 2008 season. I know that you are laughing, but stick with me. The Democrats have been losing ground in the Southern states. What better way to get the "Cooter Vote" back than by cramming your message down their throat every weekend.

Paint up a car with your logo and your candidate's name and run it around in circles. Cooter loves NASCAR, and before you know it, you will see the car's number on the back of pick-ups all over the South. Hell, buy Dale Earnheart, Jr. Every redneck in the South loves that bastard.

The Daytona 500 is in late February—right around the time of the first primaries. Every time Dale, Jr. wins a race, millions of people will hear him say, "Thanks to the DNC and their presidential candidate, (insert name here)".

Before you know it, it will be November, the Democrats will win the Bible Belt, and they will have the new President of the United States. Tell me it wouldn't work.