You guys know what you call a boat that lies on the bottom of the ocean and twitches…a nervous wreck. (Now you know why I didn’t try to make a living as a stand-up comic.)
But I gotta’ tell you, I’ve been a boat lying on the bottom of the ocean twitching this past week, as I narrowed it down to one from the list of the various and sundry candidates I was considering to be my running-mate in the Presidential race in 2020…
…that’s right, circulating fans, I am a candidate for President; my name is Cap’n John and I ain’t kidding.
You will recall from my post back on 1/25/18, “MY CANDIDATES FOR V.P.- A V.I.P., AN M.V.P., A GUY THAT SELLS S.T.P. AND A KID FULL OF C.R.A.P. (NOT IN THAT ORDER)”, that there were several qualified (?) individuals that I rejected early on for a myriad of reasons, not the least of which was in some instances gross incompetence, steadily increasing in severity, going all the way up to rampant and undignified mopery.
Putting (as in setting something in place, not the golf-stroke) the ol’ weedwacker in high gear, I tore through, excuse me, I carefully vetted them all, until one person rose above the rest, the cream to the top so to speak, the stepping forward of the best person to be my right-hand man, my Girl Friday and the guy that runs out to pick-up the pizza.
Of all the wannabes, he was the most wannabe…he was double-secret probation wannabe.
My fellow Americans, with great honor, humility and pecuniary I hereby announce that as of today, I have asked Mr. Theodore Roosevelt, the former President, Rough Rider, conservationist, outdoorsman and all-around good guy, to be my Vice-Presidential candidate in the election in 2020. I believe strongly that with my leadership skills, savvy, bullshit, excuse me, experience and devastating good looks, coupled with everything that “Teddy” brings to the table, including San Juan Hill and an awesome ‘stache, we will be an unbeatable combo. We will conserve, we will defend with vigor, we will negotiate with integrity and we will fear no one under 5’4” tall.
I am excited to begin the official campaign with Mr. R.
So far, I haven’t heard back from Teddy’s camp…one of those occasional, annoying communications screw-ups, I’m sure. Like Hillary’s emails.
(Phone rings) Ah, that’s probably Teddy or one of his “people” now…
”Hello, CJ speaking.”
“Oh, he is…I didn’t know that. Shit, that changes everything. Shit.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, all right, thanks for letting me know.”
That was my Second Mate, Ms. Taffie Wetzel, who spell/content-checks my posts as I write them…she tells me that Mr. Roosevelt is dead. Happened back in 1909. Over a hundred years ago.
Hey, I’ve been busy, I missed the obit in the paper, all right?
This was my guy…he said to speak softly and carry a big stick, and that every reform movement has a lunatic fringe, that if you believe you can you’re halfway there and that Republicans are crooked lying douche canoes. (Okay, I made up the last one.) Shit, now what the hell do I do? Teddy was perfect, plus he’s loaded (come on, he’s a Roosevelt, are you kidding me?), which was a BIG plus. Damn, now he can’t even endorse me.
I wonder if Rocky and Bullwinkle are available?
Love and coroners,
Post Script…The names have been changed to confuse the guilty.
Post Post Script…back to the drawing board. Shit.