Call Me ‘El Presidente’

Image via Wikipedia

Do you think you’d make a good president?

Of what?

My house – definitely.

Next door – they might object.

Virgin – disqualified because I’m not.  And I don’t like the beard.

America – I was born elsewhere and I have the birth certificate to prove it. Besides, I wouldn’t want to follow Martin Sheen; that’s too much to ask of me.  Though I wouldn’t mind a library.  Which leads me to one of the great unanswered questions of all time: did President Walken get a library?

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The whole prompt is much longer than that one question; I tend to read only the subject in the email:

Do you think you’d make a good president? Or Prime-minister? Or King? If so, what would be the first thing you’d do in office?

I’ve told you before that I can’t be Prime Minister because Tory Boy is going to have that job one day and he won’t want to be accused of nepotism.

I could be King, I suppose, if I have a sex-change and learn to speak RP.  Does the job come with a chauffeur?  It’s not very dignified for a monarch to travel by bus or bike (unless you happen to be Dutch).

The first thing I’d do in office is remove that dreadful Microsoft logo.  Oo, oo!  Can I be president of Microsoft?  I hear the last one got rich enough to give away half his fortune and still rule Computerland.  I wouldn’t mind being that rich.

Bonus: If not yourself, who do you know that you think would make for a good president? Perhaps a blogger you’ve met through #postaday?

It would have to be Nancy, of course.  I don’t know anyone else firm enough.  Amy would make a great VP.

Wait!  What was I thinking?  I was operating on the premise that politicians not only have principles, but stick to them.  Sorry, girls: no motorcade for you today.

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Footnote:

While trolling the internet for Presidential references, I came upon myself on page 1, number 12 of 1,80,000,000!

With that and and my recent WP mention, I think president is aiming too low: next stop, the world.

You can read that particular post here, or I could just include it in this post, because it’s short:

I read this years ago and I have always wanted to share it.  It is supposed to be a true story;  you’ll have to decide for yourself.  I soooo hope it is.

The Queen was entertaining a visiting head of state; they were parading down the Mall in a horse-drawn carriage, chatting nicely, when one of the horses made what can only be described as a rude noise.

QEII: I’m so sorry about that.

HoS: Please don’t apologise; if you hadn’t said anything, I’d have assumed it was the horse.

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Joke 99

A boy had reached four without giving up the habit of sucking his thumb, though his mother had tried everything from bribery to reasoning to painting it with lemon juice to discourage the habit.

Finally she tried threats, warning her son that, “If you don’t stop sucking your thumb, your stomach is going to blow up like a balloon.”

Later that day, walking in the park, mother and son saw a pregnant woman sitting on a bench.

The four-year-old considered the woman gravely for a minute, then spoke to her, saying, “Uh-oh … I know what you’ve been doing.”