After following the explosion in a clown factory previously called the Iowa Caucuses, I’ve decided to change my name to Bernie Sanders-Boston and run for president. As a Democrat. What the heck. I haven’t campaigned yet and I’m already tied with all the front-runners.
My goal?
To out-liberal the über-liberal liberals by promising to give away free things in exchange for allowing me to create an Orwellian police state with me as your dear and wise leader. Bonus. I figure by changing my first name to “Bernie,” I can fool several million low-information Democratic voters come November. What a great country. Bernie Sanders. Where else can a failed hippie become a major candidate for the position of Most Powerful Bozo On Earth?
In the coming months, I will make public my far-reaching vision for America 2020 And After That.
I have been so wrong, preaching for the sanctity of the individual, personal responsibility, common sense, hard work and small, smart government. I am profoundly humbled that a hapless Vermontonianite high on peyote and maple syrup can, through corruption, theft, cronyism, chronic inactivity and hypocrisy, slurp the public trough and become a multimillionaire.
People. As a converted liberal, I’ve so many ideas.
I’ll sign into law The National Mandatory Dessert BEFORE Dinner Act for all children (who now will be able to vote). And, because kids can vote, they can pick their own bedtimes and not have to attend school, becoming prepared for modern college.
With a flick of the pen, I’ll create Adopt An Ax Murderer. That’s where we, as Americans, empty all prisons and take homicidal maniacs into our homes.
Well. Your homes.
I’m also considering twerking (the vile dance step, not tweaking) the Constitution to include the forcible lodging of hostile soldiers from other nations to be mandatorily housed in, again — your — homes. It’ll be an opportunity to further share your bathroom and learn a foreign language.
My first Executive Order?
It’s called The P.P.P. Act. Forget the half-hearted measures of Democrats to legalize people doing No. 2 on our public avenues and paseos. Triple P stands for People Pooping in Pools. It’s a way to assuage white guilt by creating the ultimate editorial statement against privileged Anglos, only it targets privileged Americans of all ethnicities who own, rent, lease or have access to swimming pools.
That’ll fix their capitalist Speedos.
My heroic administration will create the N.R.D.P. — the National Retroactive Divorce Program. For the first time in America’s shameful, destructive, authoritarian, money-grubbing carbohydrate-slurping history, all people who have been in a marriage, relationship, or, on a date, will be entitled to a generous federal monthly alimony check.
Transsexuals will get double. Trainsexuals will get triple.
The National Retroactive Divorce Act will work on a sliding scale. At the bottom will be people (you foreigners, terrorists and illegal aliens will be delighted to note I didn’t say “citizens!”) who are socially awkward or who stutter. These non-dating individuals will still be entitled to a tax credit, $7,500 a week, food stamps and a Federal Self Esteem Book, which, at this moment, I am writing.
It’s in the first person. Mostly, it’s about me.
Liberal women’s groups will be delighted because the more you’ve slept around, the bigger your monthly check! Details need to be ironed out, like math, but I’m thinking if you’ve ever even batted your eyes at someone, had more than 14 prison conjugal visits or said, “Hey, sailor” in a breathy voice, that counts as a failed relationship and YOU ARE LEGALLY ENTITLED TO MONEY!!
I’m guessing someone like Madonna or that fetching red-haired steno pool girl in SClarita City Hall would qualify for the maximum stipend of $175,000 a week.
You know. Like the basic retirement package for an L.A. County sheriff’s deputy?
Dear Bernie Boston:
Amen boy howdy! You’ve got my vote! Is there a way I can double-dip, no pun intended, and get paid extra for just THINKING about being married?
Your supporter in 2020 and beyond,
Gordon Ewing
But not really the Gordon Ewing married to Venetta because she’s not really the understanding type
Captain, SCV Worldwide Police, Retired
Well heck yes, Gordon!
There is no limit to the money we can borrow to pay for all manner of goofball and unnecessary social services my administration will create.
Like The International Water Quality Monitoring Act.
That’s where we handsomely pay 2.8 billion people from other countries to spy on their neighbors to make sure they’re drinking enough water. Worldwide, I’m also going to outlaw Pepsi. Not Coke. Pepsi. Coke is delicious, nutritious and refreshing. Pepsi? It’s swill.
I’m also going to give climate change activist and teen hall monitor Greta Thunberg $1 billion so she can have a childhood.
So don’t vote for these other Donkey Girl Scout Democrats. They promise you the moon. I will GIVE EACH OF YOU the moon. Don’t overthink the offer. It’s like communion in the Catholic Church.
Vote for me. Bernie Boston. Tan. Rested. Ready. But not Nixon.
My campaign slogan?
Let’s Just Bust Up America Real Good And That’ll Fix ’Em!
Send all loose change or campaign checks (made out to “CASH”) to: “Bernie Boston for President;” c/o John Boston; c/o The Mighty Signal; 26330 Diamond Place; Room No. 100; Honby/SClarita, CA; 91350.
John Boston is a local writer whose campaign for president is not necessarily endorsed by The Signal, unless, of course, he buys a bunch of full-page Bernie Boston ads…
