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After being buried in campaign mailers, hounded by midnight robotic voices and hiding from idiotic, paid door knockers, The Nose has lost interest in the contest between Mayor Blackberry and The Undertaker, since it all boils down to a simple choice between THE JERK and ANTI JERK.
Overwhelmed by ennui, The Nose turned his attention to the At-Large race, which has evolved into a food fight between Phil “The Nitpicker” Mendelson, Clark “The Castaway” Ray and Michael “Not That” Brown.
What's in a name? Michael D. Brown, whom we call Shadow Senator, by any other name would never poll so well.
By finessing his middle initial, “Not That” Brown has thrown a wrench into the electoral plans of The Nitpicker and The Castaway without raising a dime in campaign funds or even walking Nannie Helen Burroughs Avenue.
Brown's brilliant strategy of political brand confusion has inspired The Nose to throw his own hat into the ring. Yes, there is a general election after the District's Democratic Primary. Dear Readers, you are the first to know -- The Nose is running for Mayor.
To assist in this Sisyphean endeavor, a secret cabal of The Nose's dwindling fraternity recently assembled around his dining room table to select his new moniker. Here is snippet of their deliberations:
Reporter 1: “What about Mahatma Gandhi?”
Reporter 2: “Nah, that won't work. Folks will think they are voting for the Chief Financial Officer. You know, the guy that lost 50 million dollars to a second rate swindler.”
Reporter 3: “Jesus Christ is always a good choice.”
Reporter 2: “Well, we'll certainly pick up the religious vote, but gay voters will think we are funded by Stand for Marriage.”
The Nose: “What about Barrack Hussein Obama?”
Reporter 1: “The only ones who will object to that are the Birthers. None of them pay taxes in the District. It's perfect.”
And so, The Nose acquired a new name. While adopting the President’s brand might earn the votes of the ignorant, the District's political cognoscenti demand that every candidate state their governing intentions unambiguously. Cribbed from that spoof of international politics, the movie “Duck Soup,” these are the laws of The Nose's proposed administration...
No one's allowed to toke
Or tell a dirty joke
And fraternity parties are forbidden.
If a councilman is sued,
The debtor is pursued
And in the hoosegow hidden.
If any form of pleasure is prohibited,
Report to me, and it will be exhibited.
I'll put my foot down, so shall it be.
DC is the land of the Fee.
The last man nearly ruined this place.
He didn't know what to do with it.
If you think this city's bad off now,
Just wait 'til I get through with it.
The District's deficit must be fixed,
And I know what to do with it.
If you think the tax rate is too high,
Just wait 'til I get through with it.
I will not stand for anything that's crooked or unfair.
I'm strictly on the up and up,
So developers beware.
If a contractor is caught taking graft
And I don't get my share,
We stand 'em up against the wall,
And bang goes the handgun.
To assist with the execution of his platform, The Nose secured a permit for his own personal safety device from a reluctant Cathy “The Gunslinger” Lanier and Peter “Consigliere” Nickles. Turns out, it's easier to get a legal gun than to process a FOIA; who knew?
So, all you politicians be warned! One more midnight robocall on the phone, and The Nose will make use of his new toy. Campaign signs make excellent targets. |
