McGinn: With me as president, a job for every able-bodied American stripper

McGinn

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By Andrew McGinn, Staff Writer 9:56 AM Friday, December 9, 2011

At last check, I had $278.34 — roughly — in my savings account.

We won’t talk about the checking account.

Come Monday, though, I will be contacting all two TV stations in Iowa and New Hampshire to see how much commercial air time $278.34 will get me.

Oh, I’m not that naive — I know it won’t get much.

I don’t want much.

I’d actually prefer just a split-second here and a split-second there.

In fact, I’m going to carry out an entirely subliminal campaign for president — because, starting tomorrow, I can.

In accordance with Article II, Section 1 of the Constitution, a man — I suppose a woman, too — must be 35 years of age to take the oath of president.

Guess who turns 35 on Saturday?

I never thought I’d live this long, to be honest with you.

Then again, I’ve always feared the worst.

In my world, a headache isn’t just a headache — it’s the onset of that freaky disease that ate Dudley Moore’s brain.

And for the entire year I was 27, I refused to take a bath — ain’t no way I was goin’ out like Jim Morrison.

But, unless I’m split in half by falling space debris, savagely attacked by least weasels or shot with a poison blow-dart by a Waodani tribesman at any point within the next 24 hours, I somehow, unbelievably, will turn 35.

And that makes me eligible to hold the highest office in the land.

But since it’s unlikely I’ll be promoted to CEO of Goldman Sachs, I’ve decided to just run for president of the United States instead.

Quoting the great Franklin Pierce, I actually made my official announcement last night on MySpace, but unwed teenage mothers and death metal bands tend not to vote, so I’m announcing here, too.

The way I see it, there’s never been a better time for me to announce my candidacy for the 2012 election.

What qualifications do I have?

What qualifications did Herman Cain have? He ran Godfather’s Pizza — I’ve eaten a lot of Godfather’s pizza.

Refreshingly, though, I’ve only had 1½ women in my life — my wife of 12 years and the girl with a mustache I briefly dated in high school.

It’s something of a miracle I even got the one woman, which is something our nation’s 15th president, James Buchanan, didn’t even have.

His niece acted as “first lady.”

Just when you think you’re sad and pathetic, there’s always someone even sadder and more pathetic out there.

Yes, it’s been well-documented in this space that I possess certain eccentricities.

In the spirit of full disclosure, I have OCD pretty bad.

In fact, I’m afraid that, as your president, creating a job for every able-bodied American stripper would be easy compared to having to live in a house containing 132 rooms.

God, that’s a lot of dusting.

The following could very well be an actual conversation between aides in the McGinn White House:

Aide 1: “Have you seen the President? We can’t find him anywhere. The prime minister of Burkina Faso is here to discuss the war on terror.”

Aide 2: “Oh, he’s Swiffering the Blue Room again.”

But it could be worse.

I’m thankful I don’t have multiple personalities — and that, as your president, the United States will remain a democracy of “We the People,” not “Me the People.”

As your president, I also will rid the union of Florida once and for all; install quicksand along the border with Mexico; rebrand Guantanamo Bay as “Caribbean Disney”; set the aliens at Area 51 free; clearly define “torture” as the forcible viewing of two or more Adam Sandler movies; and declare all rich people to be “enemy combatants.”

But what’s the worst that could happen with me as president?

The Mayans predicted the world will end in 2012 anyway.

Contact this reporter at amcginn@coxohio.com.

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