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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