Operation: Annihilate!
And now for something completely different from Furby.

Dear Secret Diary, this country is getting stupid.  Well, not getting, it’s been stupid for a while.  It’s like a drunk chick at a bar who is much more confident than her personality or her appearance suggests she should be.  Then she yell-talks at every guy she thinks she’s entitled to and then ends up tossing her cookies in the bathroom, losing her phone again, and forgetting any headway she made with her quiet, nice, and madly in love with her best friend who she never thought of that way because… because… we accept the love we think we deserve?  May have stolen that from Perks of Being a Wallflower.

What I’m really trying to say is that this is the way this country votes.  Sad thing is it knows it’s the damn future.  It’s 2012 people.  Remember in ancient Egypt when they were all like, “Hey, Ramses, it’s gonna be crazy in the year quadruple zero (0000)?”  Well it’s two thousand and twelve years after that even, and grown ass men are still trying to figure out how a woman’s works… work, and those same grown ass men are excelling at ways to avoid real issues by trying to tell women how to make their works work more better, not for the women’s sake, but for their own ill gotten gains.  Smart, sophisticated folks are still questioning things like whether or not outer space is totally baller, which it is, or how to balance the country’s check book, not that most people can anyway…

There just doesn’t seem to be a candidate, or any other semi-decent human who actually wants to do the job, who understands people like me, people who don’t give half a care about these old white bastard’s mad designs for power and glory.  Either one of these two rich dudes gets elected and my life honestly doesn’t change one bit.  Taxes might go up and down, but when don’t they?  Women might be put into camps, whether they deserve it or not.  Old people might get louder or quieter depending on how old the prez is.  As a white, middle class male living in a donkey controlled state, nothing is gonna change for me.  I’m gonna play video games, make silly webisodes, go buy comics, and learn me about fictional universes where the heroes we don’t need to elect actually get things done.

                                        As long as they're painted by Alex Ross.

Word of advice… don’t search for Batman and Superman on Google.  Scary things happen.

So here’s what I’ve come up with and it’s good news, I’m the candidate who understands people like me.  I’m the guy that knows space is really cool and that a woman should probably be allowed to do whatever the hell she wants to do… within reason here ladies.  Let’s be equal means equal, not slightly better.  And I’m the sensitive, quiet, best friend who is madly in love with you but won’t say anything because it hurts when you keep saying I’m like your brother if he was gay and, dammit, I have feelings too.

My platform is pretty damn simple.  It’s a get shit done kinda platform with a lot of not so subtle nerd leanings peppered in just to piss off people who think they’re “with it.”  Several of my new, as I’m gonna call them just to be annoying, decrees, are as follows:

     -  Get The Big Bang Theory cancelled and exiled like they did to Star Trek in that episode of Futurama.  Those so-called “nerds” are perpetuating a negative stereotype and if I’ve learned anything about social injustices throughout history, if we don’t get rid of them, we’re gonna have another Vietnam on our hands.  And we’ll lose, cause some of them nerds are smart as hell.

     -  Stop making motion controls for video games.  Let’s stop moving, people.  I don’t want exercise when I sit down to play a video game, and lord knows I ain’t gonna stand up.  I’m not a mom playing Mario Bros. for the first time and moving the control every time Mario jumps to make him jump farther.  That’s what the fingers are for.  If I wanted to be fit, I’d stop eating four rolls every time I go to Texas Roadhouse.  And I won’t.

     -  Bring tolerance to the Night Owls of the country.  Some people don’t work 9-5.  I know, shocking!  More stores should have night shifts.  Sometimes I have a hankering for Blu-ray shopping at 5 AM and I’m sorry but Kroger just doesn’t have the selection I’m looking for.  But alas, Best Buy closes at 7 PM on Sundays.  And anyone who asks a Night Owl why they’re up at 3 AM will be immediately exiled.  (There’s gonna be a lot of exiling, so get ready.  If you shivered slightly, I’m probably coming for you.)

     -  In fact, let’s get it out of the way right now.  Exiled people: extremely loud people, people who work at Brickstone, bad drunks, drivers who need to be somewhere more important than you,  impatient people, hipsters, loud people, mooches, bad listeners, posers, people who visit Florida from New York or New Jersey, and the list will go on.  Oh, and Skrillex.  Garageband has a lot more sounds, dude.  Did I say loud people?

     -  Also Sundays will no longer be “that day half of you rest so the rest of us half to (that’s a pun I wrote on accident).”  Sunday, and all the other days that end in -day, only exist because the Earth rotates.  There is no difference between them.

     -  This sign will be placed in every business: “The customer is always right, but we decide when you’re no longer a customer.”  Go be a self-entitled prick in your own home.  These people are trying to make a living.  I’ll give tax breaks to anyone who strictly enforces this, especially restaurants.

     -  No more of those depressing and guilt-laden commercials about abused animals or hungry children in other countries on my favorite TV channels.  When I’m watching Comedy Central, the big word there is comedy.  I don’t want to hear about animals who are dying without my money during a comedy routine.  Send them to Oxygen, Lifetime, Hallmark, and all those other channels where they’ll get business.

     -  Say goodbye to pennies, cause they’re gone.  We’ll stop making them, which will save money.  ”But but, how will I get my penny back if I pay twelve dollars for the 11.99 my twelve double cheeseburgers cost!?”  Every price will be rounded up to the nearest interval of 5 cents.  I’d rather pay upwards of four extra cents for everything then have a vault full of useless pennies like an extremely sad Scrooge McDuck.  Also, it’ll save time in line when that soccer mom can’t find that last penny she knows is just hiding in the deep abyss of her purse while a line of people with lives to get back to forms behind her and her nine children scream because she didn’t buy them all candy.  It’s my most ambitious and most rewarding decree.

     -  Churches.  Give us money.  Unless you’re feeding the hungry on your own dime, I’m gonna need some of the money you use to keep building towards the sky, so’s I can feed the hungry.  No no, don’t go to another country to feed them, they have their own thing going on.  I ain’t president of them.  Stay here and either feed the starving, or gimme taxes like everyone else.

     -  Titles.  I’m bringing them back.  I want to be a Duke.  Or an Earl.  Something.  It’s completely ridiculous that some of those Kennedys weren’t really royalty because scared dudes in pantaloons in the 1700s thought that since one royal was a tax hungry jerk that they all would be.  JF Kennedy would have been a sweet Prince.  Prince would be a sweet Prince.

Those are just a small smattering of my many decrees that I plan to push through during my tenure in office.  Oops, I meant to write ten year in office.  That’s how many I get right?  It’s been a long time since the 7th grade Constitution test.  And when I say push through, I don’t mean, write a bill and have other old white idiots vote against it, I mean that I’m just gonna do it and damn the consequences.  I’m the leader of the free world.  That’s what it says on the monogramed slippers and matching bathrobe.  You can’t just have those made for just anybody.

So, here’s my request.  If you’re a young lass or fella like myself and you’re just exhausted by all of this hoopla and can’t decide who to vote for, then don’t vote.  But if you feel bad and you’re scared if you don’t your friends will make fun of you (exiled), then maybe you vote for someone who doesn’t deserve it at all but thinks it would be sweet if he could maybe mention to his friends and family, “know how many votes I got in the presidential election? More than you.”  Why don’t you go ahead on November the 6th and vote for yours truly, John Furby, for President of these United States of America.  If you live in Illinois, your vote doesn’t really count anyway, Democrats have won every time  since 1988.  How does that make you Republicans feel, poopy?  Well then vote for me and make your racist fathers and racist “unbiased” news network happy.

Let’s make this election year fun for once!  Let’s give you all a story to tell your grandkids when they ask why Illinois saw a rapid decline in honest votes in the year 2012.  And before you get any naysaying thoughts in your brain, let’s not get bogged down in any archaic Constitutional stipulations here.  It’s two hundred and thirty-six years later.   It’s an old piece of paper signed by some lecherous dudes with wooden teeth and powdered wigs.  Let’s move on with our lives.  We have Internet now.

Politics can be fun again, I promise!  And this is the first step.  Vote for me, take a picture, send it through, and I can tell Obama when I help him move out that he’s the first president to lose to a fake candidate.  And I can tell Romney and all those other rich brainless turds that are getting exiled so fast that I forgot to get them any seasickness pills for their one-way trip to the North Pole.

          

P.S.  Sky Ertl gets to be vice prez cause he called dibs.  Dibs is law.  New decree.

Operation: Annihilate! Presents

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Things are almost a go!

JAKE
ROLE: Creative Force
SPECIALTIES: Star Wars and Pop Culture
LOVES: All Circular Foods

JAKE

ROLE: Creative Force

SPECIALTIES: Star Wars and Pop Culture

LOVES: All Circular Foods