As you could probably imagine, the job of president of the United States is a darned boring one, with not much to do. In previous years, I mostly just sit around at my big old desk for a bunch of hours, reorganizing files, lookin' real busy, waitin' for Dick or Condi to come in and tell me that stuff is okay and I don't gotta worry. And then I would spend the afternoon playing some golf.
But then someone pointed out that with all the hurricanes and the war and the terrorism and the scandals and the economy and the other scandals, it wouldn't look so good on the teevee for folks to see reporters sticking a microphone in my face asking me about all that tragic shit and I'm just sittin' pretty in a golf cart talkin' bout puttin'.
So I got off the course and onto the Interwebs. And lemme tell you, there's a lot of agitated people out there, and boy do they like to type about it! If I didn't know any better, I'd think that the Interweb was set up by and large to allow angry people to anonymously call me a "fascist douche-bag who is totally ruining America." Maybe it was.
But it's starting to get way out of hand. I mean, it's one thing if some pimple-faced prick in his basement calls me "an illiterate cowboy Hitler pigboinker" on some Interweb site. But when we got a whole buttload of people goin on to this Interwebs and typin' bout how I "drink the blood of Iraqi children" and how my foreign policy strategy "is basically like a retarded kid hopped up on pixie sticks playing whack-a-mole with a sledgehammer", I take great offense to that. Whack-a-mole is a great American pastime and should not be used for political attackery.