Tag Archives: vomitola election

And the Oscar goes to…

O best beloved internet, today I took some time from my busy schedule to worry about getting that bird flu and whether or not Hilary Swank will wear Vera Wang. Then that baby of my acquaintance stopped by. Here’s the thing with babies: They are swirling existential voids. People think babies don’t know anything, but they are wrong. Babies know they are helpless and insignificant, and this rightly pains them. This one is constantly suicidal, throwing himself at electrical outlets with tongue extended. He is also good at seeking out buckets containing one inch of water. I feel bad stopping him since he seems to really know what he wants, but I am pretty sure assisted suicide is illegal, even in this godless liberal state. Not that I looked that up, so don’t believe junk you read on the internet.

This disjointed rambling brings us to the results of our Vomitola election. I know you’ve all been irritated and jittery waiting for these results. I praise those of you who voted multiple times, especially for me.

And the winner is —

Cease! Desist! Impudent whores, I claim this puny electronic fiefdom in the name of superior intellect.

While I am no stranger to the pleasures of the flesh and the mother’s milk of the vine, one cannot build a nation by telling the little creatures that they do not have to toil if they do not wish to do so. Indeed, I rather admire the notion of enslaving the sans-culottes. However, I simply cannot abide the necessary company of rogues and japesters required to bring this to fruition. Let them exist under the iron rule of my ministers, out of sight and distance of hearing.

Thus, I see no other course than to appoint myself Monarch in Perpetuit. It is for your own good, you incompetent strumpets! Democracy is pointless and ugly simply because the pointless and ugly are allowed as much of a say as I. Now yield me my due as sovereign, and I will endeavour to rehabilitate the status of this intellectual cesspool.

-Melvin I

No, no, you illiterate slattern, Licketysplit for President!

I’m glad Lambchop reminded me we were running for president today. I was down in the town with the little people, purchasing a new car. Disposable autombiles are a brilliant invention, and every President’s Day, it is a great thumping thrill to get a new one and heave the old one into the mire. I am getting my name airbrushed on the side this time!

Now, I am not here to wow you with facts about cursing parrots or obesity, as Lambchop has attempted to do below. And I must also point out that my opponent’s pro-drug platform is no different from the current administration’s. You need vision! You need innovation! You need a haircut, and you could stand to lose ten pounds! Turn to me as I debut my platform:

There Are People to Do Those Things

As you may have guessed, Licketysplit stands for leisure. I prefer not to, and I know you feel the same way. If you gave a damn, your feet wouldn’t look like that. My party embraces indifference and ennui, but we still like to keep up appearances. You won’t catch us spreading liberty — if other countries became tolerable places to live, no one would sneak over our borders to clean out my garbage disposal or chaffeur my new car! I speak from solid experience that you will be hard-pressed to make someone wear a silly little hat and epaulets if he’s grown up in a culture of free expression.

So let the third world languish in third place, and let’s try to look as if we rightfully inhabit first! I stand for a plunge pool on every roof, a heated towel rack in every bathroom, and a mini bar in every bedroom. Don’t you want your grapes peeled and your sea salt imported from the Himalayas? Don’t you care about an adequate supply of tranquilizers for our annoying senior citizens (and for everyone, really)?

Vote Licketysplit for President of Vomitola! You can do it without even getting out of your chair.

Lambchop for President

It is President’s Day, a holiday for which there is no festive activity. No one really knows what to do. I encourage everyone to fold their one dollar bills in such as way as to suggest that our first president was, in fact, a mushroom. I have been finding out all sorts of Fun President Facts, for example that William H. Taft was really, really fat. He got stuck in the White House tub and had to have one specially constructed. He was carried to his inauguration in it! And in 1976 Jimmy Carter ran under the platform “Not Just Peanuts”. Did you know that our current President has an apple for a brain? That’s right, an apple!

My favorite President is “Old Hickory” Andrew Jackson. Jackson was the first President to almost be murdered. He was shot at twice at a funeral and tackled his assailant to the ground, apparently pretty miffed. He was a brawler and a rodgerer, who threatened to hang his Vice President. When congress opposed his nomination for the Minister to England, he jumped to his feet and cried “By the Eternal! I’ll smash them!” He had a pet parrot named Poll. The parrot screamed curse words at his funeral.

President’s Day is a good day to observe the dignity and solemnity of this office. To give Democracy a great big hug. And so, high in our Vomitola treehouse, we have decided that we, too, need a President.

A vote for lambchop says yes to party favors and public drunkenness. A vote for lambchop says it is ok to drive while tripping on acid, and no, you don’t have to go to work if you don’t f@#$ing feel like it. Lambchop stands for promiscuity, painting, and pink tights. Vote for me and I will steer this ship right into a great pile of rocks, taking out a small village with me. Listen to your fat clotted hearts, citizens! They will tell you that you want me as your Vomitola leader. Sing the praises of underpants, while I hum a nihilistic tune: