The next job I won't have

My dear Stacy, who has won herself my lifelong friendship (not to mention a brand new snail if I can figure out how to get one to Michigan from here) has, hysterically, nominated me for President. I'm not sure what inspired this level of confidence - unlike her, when I'm trapped in the Whole Foods parking lot I don't use the time to think of crafty solutions. Instead, I'm fully occupied by the effort required to bite my tongue so I don't scream out, "You're all idiots! Every one of you!!!" I don't recall hearing that line in my "Future Leaders Of America" meetings back in High School...

This picture is from my High School graduation, where the first George Bush addressed our class and sent us out into the world to buy property, create multi-national corporations, and devote our lives to the American Dream. Actually, I have no recollection of what he told us to do that day, which serves as further confirmation that I'm probably not cut out to be President. When Bill Clinton met John Kennedy, I suspect he paid attention. To this day, I bet Bill could tell you every word JFK said, that he wasn't shaking the President's hand but secretly hoping the talk would end early so he could get home to pull together a cute outfit for the party that night...

So Stacy, I am grateful for the nomination, but for the good of the Nation, I really must decline :)

(Kylie, however, has assumed her duties as First Dog effective immediately, seeing no reason to wait for a formal election when there is so much work to be done on behalf of her canine constituency. KYLIE 2006 and Forever!)