Skeletons In The Closet
I was reading an article today about how New Jersey governor Chris Christie is going to undergo lap-band surgery. Pundits are divided over what the impact of this will be. Some think that this can only help Christie in a possible run for the White House in 2016, while some think, holy shit, those lap bands better be made of solid steel because otherwise all it’s going to take is a single trip to Crispy Creme and BLAMMO! Lap-band shrapnel and icing everywhere. Governor Christie is a big boy. What everyone can agree on is that you cannot become President of the United States if you weigh more than a Volkswagen.
I don’t feel this is fair, frankly. I mean, we obviously don’t have a problem electing mental-defectives to office, so what if a candidate is packing a few extra pounds? Still, it’s obvious that you will not be elected to the office of President of the United States if you’re from Milwaukee seriously overweight. You’d have to go all the way back to FDR to find our last chunky president. (The whole polio thing was a ruse. The real reason FDR was never pictured from the chest down was that he looked like Jabba the Hut. He weighed over 1,600 pounds and once lost Eleanor in a roll of fat for over a month.)
The article then went on to list ten things you could not do if you hoped to be elected president, which I laughed at because it was woefully incomplete. I mean, I looked it over, and I didn’t see an entry for “Get caught furiously dry humping a washing machine at Sears”, and seriously, how can the list be complete without that? It’s what doomed Jimmy Carter’s reelection campaign.
As I thought more about the list, I started to wonder how old I was before I accumulated enough skeletons in the closet to make a presidential run impossible. You can get away with a lot of silly behavior when you’re a teenager, and certainly college students are known for binge drinking and pot-smoking, so I was probably good for a while. But I think that by the time I turned 20, I’d pretty much shot myself in the foot as far as running for office was concerned. Any one offense might be forgiven as a youthful indiscretion, but when you put them all together, they wove a tapestry of depravity. Seriously, the following clip may seem like an exaggeration, but there’s literally not a single thing in it that would’ve seemed out of place when I was 22, and it could’ve happened on a fucking weekday.
So, yeah, no presidential bid for me.
I thought Taft was your Oliver Hardy-sized POTUS.
All your presidents used to have such cool back-stories:
cocaine fiend, movie actor, peanut-farmer, CIA Chief, buffalo hunter, secret polio victim, rich playboy screwing around, rich playboy screwing around slightly less (probably), rampant jealous paranoiac, slave-owner/boner, and wooden-toothed hemp magnate, among others, in no particular order.
You’d fit right in.
Actually, Taft was a giant walrus who a bunch of frat boys ran for office as a prank.
Warren G Harding used to bang his mistress in a White House closet while the Secret Service kept watch for him.
One of those two things is true.
I dunno, you could always make the talk show rounds, apologize to America, maybe cry a little. People love a guy sorry for his sins.
Dogs on Drugs 2016…yep, I can already see the bumper stickers.
Well, ok, I’ll run, as long as I don’t have to actually do anything. (This would make me the most effective president ever.)
If you had posted only that clip, and no words, I would have watched and thought “That’s the house Dogs shared when he was in college.”
Would you really want to be president? How long do you think you would put up with those guys in bad suits, sunglasses and earpieces before you started messing with them?
That’s assuming a period of time during which I refrained from messing with them first. I don’t think I’d be able to do that.
But think of the rager you could throw at the White House if you were President. We’re talking a party of epic proportion. You could fly in the Canadian PM for the sole purpose of having him bring some Moosehead. It would be a better use of taxpayer money than almost anything else that goes on there.
Harper’s popularity would probably increase greatly if he was seen down there sharing a bong with you (or even with Obama for that matter). I might even vote for him.
I’ll forward this comment thread to him. I’m sure he’ll start getting stoned immediately.
lol. That would be so much more awesome than the fucking Mother’s Day message I got from him yesterday. That’s either some gnarly spam, or I’ma have to track down whoever put me on the Conservative Party’s email list.
It takes a lot of motivation, dedication, and creativity to live a lifestyle that steeped in depravity. Those sound like three very presidential traits to me.
That’s it! I’m in! Alert the mainstream media.