Ego
Trippin' Balls.
 When
I was about twelve years old I was taught, in Miss
Cook's 6th grade class, that in order to run for President
you had to be at least 35 years old. At the time this
seemed
like a total gyp although, in retrospect,
it's clear that a prospective Chief
Executive
needs
to go
through
puberty before commencing war on helpless brown people
in other countries.
If you're presently past the magic age of 35 and have
all your citizenship bone fide ducks in a row the only
other
thing you
need to run
for President is to raise or spend $5000 and
file the proper paperwork with the FEC. To me, that
is an
amazing bargain because for less than the cost of a
butt lift you could be known by one and all as the
guy who ran for President. Think of all the hot waitresses
you'll impress at Hooters, all the ex-school chums
who will regard you with greater respect at the reunions,
or how you can tell Uncle Billy on Thanksgiving to
shut his
fat mouth about Tony Romo
because,
you
know,
you once ran for President.
Heck, you might even get a discount on the buffet at
Luby's.
Even if you don't spend a minute on the campaign trail
you can always boast that you received as many delegate
votes as Texas Governor Rick Perry (zero), plus you'll
probably even get a mention on a Wikipedia
page with other prez front-runners like Thaddeus
McCotter, Jack Fellure, and Jonathon
Sharkey.
Best of all, when you eventually shuffle off this mortal
coil your obituary will state "Former
candidate for President." Which
is just another way to tell all your mourners to "Eat
it, bitches!"
=Lefty=
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