I’m Running for President ….as a Republican
Meet Donald Trump’s newest challenger.
That’s right. You read it here first.
Look at the facts. The candidate leading the G.O.P. pack right now is a megalomaniac who bleaches his hair bright orange. He’s blundered his way through several failed businesses and has filed for bankruptcy four times. He rambles incoherently without a script each time he steps in front of a camera. What he says often offends millions of people. And, he’s wasted half of his life hanging out inside casinos.
If those are credentials for the most important job in the world, then I don’t just have a fighting chance. Hell, with my resume that should make me the frontrunner.
Ladies and gentlemen, I hereby announce my candidacy for President of the United States….as a Republican.\
Unlike Trump’s viable following, which has inexplicably mushroomed into the millions, my announcement isn’t expected to garner much national media attention. If my calculations are correct, I’m now the 982nd candidate to officially declare for the 2016 Republican nomination, and the first caucus is still another five months away. This time around, when ballots are printed up, it might be practical to list the names of those who are not running for president. The 2016 Republican presidential ballot is going to look like the White Pages, minus Rick Perry’s name, of course, who couldn’t build upon the .00001 percent he was stockpiling in the national polls as of late last week. So, theoretically, I’ve got a better fighting chance of winning the Republican nomination than the former Governor of Texas, which with 30 million people is actually our most populous U.S. state because, after all, California doesn’t really count because a third of the people living there are illegals. While I’m just about to start my engine, Perry’s already flunked out, financially busted, and isn’t campaigning anymore, and I still haven’t even committed by first gaffe yet.
Move aside, Gov. Perry. With an empty lectern available at the next Republican presidential debate, I’ll gladly fill your shoes (or wear your cowboy boots). I’ll gladly take your 14 lonely voters and build upon it. I can even name the three federal cabinet posts you wanted to eliminate. You couldn’t. What’s the most memorable quote of Rick Perry’s political career? “Oops.” In this party, the bar is low, folks.
So, where exactly do I stand in the polls? Well, as of this moment, I’ll easily poll ahead of poor little Bobby Jindal, who’s resting comfortably right now in 14th place, even in backwater Louisiana (sans New Orleans), where he just so happens to be governor of that state. Hell, I could throw a wine dinner and serve Merlot at room temperature and still pick up more votes than Bobby Jindal’s getting right now. Oh, and since we’re talking about Bobby, he might want to read my review of the new Indian restaurant that just opened on the west side of Las Vegas. The Chicken Tikka Masala is excellent.
Between my Twitter followers, my Facebook friends, and all the gamblers and drinkers I know, that’s a solid base of political support. That’s the demographic I want behind me. The kind of people who know how to made a rusty nail and can calculate the pre-flop odds on a race between pocket queens and ace-king. Speaking of knowing the odds, too bad Gavin Smith can’t vote. He’s Canadian. So instead, I guess I’ll have to hire Gavin as my campaign treasurer. The official campaign symbol will be a talking greyhound.
As far as my stance on the issues, I’m not sure that really matters much. No one seems to give a shit about where we stand on income inequality and conflicts in the Middle East. We’ve got more important things to worry about, like tonight’s pointspread winner in the Eagles-Falcons game. They’re too complex to get into, anyway. We all want to be entertained. So, let’s give the public what it wants. Our political candidates are little more than contestants on a reality television, and everyone except the winner eventually gets voted off the island over the course of the season.
When it comes to issues, I’ll just lie about my true beliefs, like everyone else does, and declare I’m a “moderate.” Imagine the looks on their faces after I campaign full-time as a sane, middle-of-the-road candidate and somehow get elected to office. Then, my inaugural address will announce plans to nationalize the banks, institute universal health care, eliminate all student debt, cut the military in half, introduce gun control, protect animal rights, outlaw lotteries, and legalize all forms of so-called vice — including drugs, prostitution, sports betting, and online poker. I’ll introduce Cornel West as my running mate, assuming I can pry him away from the Bernie Sanders campaign.
Indeed, I believe running as a moderate is the road to the White House. That’s because all the other Republican candidates are soooooooo far to the right, I’m still investing long in confederate flag futures. Want to know how far to the right this crop of candidates is? Consider that Mike Huckabee says he doesn’t even believe in abortion in cases to case the life of the mother! And he’s the liberal (at least on economics). Speaking of running mates, rumor has it Huckabee is now carefully considering the dentist who shot Cecil the Lion.
The more I think of my chances, the more excited I get. I might really have a shot of winning. How? Call it creative coalition building. Let’s do some quick math, shall we? Within the ranks of Republicans, I’ll win all the votes of Blacks and Latinos. Okay, so that’s a total of 11 votes right there — assuming I can pick up the endorsement of Ben Carson’s and his family once he eventually drops out of the race. I’ll get the Republican intellectuals. Ooops, that didn’t exactly move the needle. If I can somehow get all the gay Republicans, at least with a foot still in the closet, that could be a significant base of voter support. And women? What about the women? Well, if Donald Trump can piously declare as he did recently that “women love me” and be taken seriously after a lifetime of misogyny, since I”m a younger and nicer version of the Trumpster, they’ll be fleeing his campaign for mine like it’s a fire sale at Nordstrom Rack.
Which now brings me to the sticky problem of campaign financing. Looks like I’m going to need about $1.2 billion. That’s with a “B.” And quick. I’ve got some serious catching up to do. Got lots of misleading ads to run, trashing everyone else in the race, since that’s what works. Just ask President John “Swiftboat” Kerry. Those are the political ballbusters I want to hire — the high-priced snake-oil salesmen who sold us George W. Bush for four more years. But, it’s going to cost. Anyone who can write me a check sometime this week, can be appointed ambassador to whatever country you want after I’m elected. If you deliver cash, I’ll make you Secretary of State.
Now that I given this more thought, imagine the daydream scenario of me standing up there on the national stage as the bona fide Republican Party nominee facing off against avowed-socialist Bernie Sanders (as the prospective Democratic Party nominee) in a live televised debate:
SANDERS: A nation will not survive morally or economically when so few have so much and so many have so little.
DALLA: I totally agree.
SANDERS: If you can’t afford to take care of your veterans, then don’t go to war.
DALLA: I can’t argue with that.
SANDERS: If the environment were a bank, it would have been saved by now.
DALLA: Amen! Preach it brother, Bernie!
SANDERS: An America where every person, no matter their race, their disability, their sexual orientation, realizes the full promise of equality — that is our birthright as Americans.
DALLA: Damn, you’re right, Bernie. I agree totally with everything that you’re saying. I hereby withdraw from the race. Fuck my nomination, I’m voting for Bernie Sanders.