What, another election? Don’t worry, this one will be blessedly short, which is great. It also involves fictional people, which makes it even better. Also it gives me something to do cause I’m bored.
As with all monumental decisions, it started with a Facebook post.
Hans wasted no time getting his press coverage in. On Facebook. Of course.
Rapunzel had a good idea there. Popcorn makes almost everything better. I’m stocked in it for early next month. Next came the search for campaign managers and running mates. Yes, in this election the primaries were skipped because most Disney royalty are not stupid enough to run in an election. They stayed with Facebook for candidates, because I kept losing my camera. I mean it’s more efficient. Better than Twitter anyway. #twitterisforlosers
After whacking her head against some ice a few times, Elsa tries again.
Oh, if only it were so easy, Elsa. So many questions. How DID Hans get out of prison this time? Who is helping his campaign? How many scandals will surface? Will I find my camera or just have the whole thing done on Faceboook? Shouldn’t we consider that for the next election?
It is almost time for the election, you guyz, and after only four years of endless preparation and annoyance! A lot of stuff has really been happening out there like the Republican debates (that I didn’t watch) and the Democratic debates (that I also didn’t watch). Some candidates have stood out more than others, like Donald “toupee” Trump for instance:
Oh wait, I’m sorry, that’s an insult to Bozo. I was meaning this guy:
Of course candidates can stand out in various ways. Either for being stupid blowhards (see above) or for having something decent to say. In the Democratic debate, I heard that Bernie Sanders actually requested that they not talk about Hillary Clinton’s emails, not so much for Hillary’s sake as for everyone else’s. Thanks, Bernie. I don’t recall what her emails were supposed to be about. I’m just concerned that she is so old she’s out of touch with America. Everyone these days texts their stupid, possibly illegal crap on their smart phones. Get with the program, Hillary.
But you might be wondering about the title of my blog post, saying you read it. I haven’t felt so good physically lately. I’ve had bronchitis, reaction to antibiotics, stomach virus, more stomach virus, a partridge in a pear tree lodged in my sternum, etc. So I’ve been a bit out of touch (more than normal that is). So if something major has happened, I don’t know because I haven’t been getting my dose of fb news. But I do remember that Trump really got his panties in a wad over Jeb Bush supposedly planting a cute little red haired girl (no relation to Charlie Brown) in his audience to ask him impossible questions like “Do you respect women?” I mean, what is he supposed to say to that?
They did a little research and it turned out that the redheaded girl, oopsie, worked for Jeb Bush’s campaign. Which makes one wonder about why she was asking Trump if he was going to treat women well when clearly Jeb isn’t going to do it, unless he just lost his Republican dos and don’ts flash cards and forgot. At any rate, Jeb claimed that he had NO IDEA she would be there. Trump, in a rare moment of brilliance, said that was a bunch of crap. I watched with glee. I love it when they fling poo on each other.
But what about the dream part, Alice? Does that have something to do with Jeb throwing an egg at you, or did you just decide to get involved as a lobbyist after all? Well, it was a dream. Yup, I dreamed about Jeb Bush. No not like THAT! I would only take Obama to the prom, as I did in another whacked out dream years ago. This dream had to do with eggs, and Jeb, and ebay. I’ll explain.
See I was walking down one side of the street, and on the other side, there was Jeb Bush with some of his cronies. And they were riding along behind this old lady on an old mare and Jeb asked his aide “What’s that in front of us?” And his aide said “Old mares!” And they both laughed and laughed. And I thought that was not very funny so I yelled over there. In response, they pelted me with eggs. But not just any eggs. When the egg exploded on my shirt it read “Jeb Bush for President” in sticky egg goo. Rather ingenious way to get your message across, but I was quite irritated. I marched over to him and asked why he did that. In response he looked at me in that adorable, befuddled way he does:
So I just took a picture of him and went on to some conference or circus, or something like that. I explained to my friends about getting Bush egg on me, and how I planned to sell my shirt along with the picture (for absolute proof) on Ebay. Makes sense to me. Or it did, until I woke up. Now I will never know how much money I got for getting pelted by Republican eggs. Darn it.
What does this have to do with politics or the issues or any of that stuff? Absolutely nothing. Which means I have told you just as much as your average news report. This is your raving reporter Alice, signing off.
By the way – have you ever had a dream with politicians in it? Or, er nightmare? Let me know in the comments below! Or just tell me why you hate politicians, that will do too. I’ll be getting to work on my political egg bombs – I think the idea shows promise.