Right now I'm listening to Sinead O'Connor's "Nothing Compares 2 U." Yes, I still like this song. I still like a lot of crap music. A few weeks ago, in fact, at an awesome Hootie show down on Boston's south shore, I saw my new favorite t-shit - "Yeah, I still like Hootie, bitch." Longetivity and loyalty are beautiful things.
So decades from now, well after I've served two masterful terms in the White House (or three or four, if we can change that damned rule), and long after my scandals have all been written about ad nauseum, I hope there remain a few of you out there who will bristle at poor mention of my name and say, "Yeah, I still like Wirsing, bitch."
6 comments:
I believe this is where Mike steps in and says, "Karl, I want you to be the best Karl you can be. But certain things do not belong on the campaign trail. You want to win, don't you? Is there any way we can refrain from praising Hootie and the Blowfish for the next, oh, I don't know, thirty-four years?" But that's not going to happen, is it?
I could sooner give up alcohol ... oh, I mean air.
"Nothing Compares to Karl"
"Yeah, I still like Wirsing, bitch" could actually be what gets you those third and fourth terms. You get enough t-shirts circulating by 2038 or so, and then suddenly no one will remember why we have those pesky term limits. 'Cause the voters WILL still like Wirsing, dammit. That's when the advertising barrage starts: "Why let Karl get away after only eight years? Don't you still like him, bitches? Call your congressperson."
Let Karl be Karl.
Yeah Kate, we should say, "What would have happened if Karl's parents had only given him two terms? He'd have been out on his ass at age eight. Digging for supper in trash cans. Sleeping on the curb. A little eight year old boy. Offering rim jobs for a piece of the good old American apple pie. Is that any way for us to treat the president?"
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