From the Diary of a Political Candidate

by Mike Stevens

     My name is Colin Von Trapp, and I recently broke into the house of a presidential candidate, who shall remain nameless, and stole this personal diary, and zowee--check this out:

      "Boy, I've got everybody fooled! They seem to think I actually give a shit about them, and their pathetic, meaningless, hopeless lives. They see me as a celebrity first, and a candidate second, which is a good thing, because I know less than nothing about anything real. They'll ask me questions, looking for a substantive answer, and I just blow them off with meaningless, vague generalities. They don't seem to realize that there's no there here. While I may not know much, I act like I do, and I talk a good game. If I've learned one thing from the business world, besides being utterly ruthless, it's to seem like you know what you're talking about, and to brook no criticism--in fact, when questioned about something, I'll go on the attack, deflecting the attention from the fact I don't know shit about whatever the topic is, and make fun of them for something--if there's something wrong with them physically, so much the better. Hey, if it worked in junior high school, why change it?

      I hear the Republican Party establishment is upset with me--what they, what nobody, understands, is the only thing I give a shit about is myself. I'm loving all the publicity. Good or bad, it doesn't matter. Like the old saying goes, any publicity is good publicity, and publicity will make me even more money, which is, after all, why I'm actually running--well, that, and so I'll need a bigger hat. Can you imagine me with a bigger head? If people were making hair jokes before, this hair would truly look like it's living separate from my head--like I'd have to wrestle it to the ground in order to comb and spray it into submission, eh, ha, ha!

     For some reason, the unwashed masses, and believe me, they've obviously never heard of soap, look at me as one of them. I mean, 'hello! Do I look like I've ever been poor, and could possibly understand anything about the everyday struggles of the common man? Hell no--believe me, common I'm not, unless by 'common' you mean super-rich. Then I plead guilty--just a figure of speech! I'm too smart to ever get caught doing something illegal. Can you imagine someone as rich and with hair this perfect surviving in prison? I'm a lover of myself, not a fighter!

      I hear from my sources--ha--sources, that the word on the street is that that I'll get wiped out in the general election, but never overestimate the intelligence of some of the public. I WILL be the next President of the United States!"

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