The New Hampshire Primary is upon us, and so far the citizens of the United States have been presented with a choice between a cocaine addict, an anti-rock and roll zombie, a broken-down former POW who sees “Charlie” lurking in every dark corner, and a feeble white point guard with a bad ticker. If you throw in the wrestler and the billionaire with a taste for fresh, young, surgically altered flesh, we can finally see that the 2000 presidential election presents the clearest choice in a generation. And, God help you, that choice is me.

I would like to take this opportunity to formally announce my candidacy for President of the United States. I understand some might think that a vote for a 28-year-old alcoholic stand-up comedian would be a vote for unemployment insurance, casual sex with girls of questionable age, and Country Club Malt Liquor. Those people are right. My staff assures me that, with this platform alone, I should carry Maine, much of the South, and every college town in America.

I would like to point out that, unlike the other candidates, I am not addicted to cocaine. I love rock. I don’t hate or fear gooks. I’m not a present or former athlete, unless hauling my liquor-bloated bulk off the couch to go take a piss counts as weightlifting. And while I love naked, quivering, nubile young flesh as much as the next guy, and I can see how the image of firm, enhanced breasts pressed against the Oval Office desktop as her perfect, heart-shaped, liposuctioned bottom points enticingly toward me, beckoning me, promising unsurpassed bliss if only I reveal the launch codes, and she ecstatically shrieks, “Da! Da!”… 

But I digress.  The people will demand to know where I stand on the issues. While I intend to take a cue from John McCain’s “Straight Talk Express” and travel the country in my bus, the “Straight Up With a Bud Chaser Express,” meeting the people, shaking as many hands as possible using Kevin Smith’s “Stink palm” gag, I would like to take this opportunity to reveal my platform.

I have given careful consideration about which party to run in. The Republican Party seemed attractive because they support my God-given Second Amendment right to own my anti-tank rocket. However, they’re pro-life, and I personally believe a woman should have the right to abort a fetus up until the time it’s old enough to start public school. I thought about running as a Democrat, except they want to close down every cigarette, liquor and gun manufacturer in America, which would mean I wouldn’t be able to get drunk, light up a Marlboro and kill them with my rocket. I considered running in the Reform Party until I remembered that I have self-respect.

Just remember: the next President is going to enter office with access to a 20 billion dollar budget surplus, and a keg of Busch only costs 35 clams. Fuck a chicken in every pot; I’ll put cirrhosis in every liver.

That’s why I’m running as a member of the Free Beer party. I figure that it doesn’t matter if I attend the debates hammered, naked and covered in infant blood; no red-blooded American is gonna vote against free beer. Just remember: the next President is going to enter office with access to a 20 billion dollar budget surplus, and a keg of Busch only costs 35 clams. Fuck a chicken in every pot; I’ll put cirrhosis in every liver.

Unlike any of the other candidates, I am already prepared to announce my running mate. While this might not seem like a big deal, remember that the present front-runner is the drug-addicted son of the man who, totally sober, brought us Lil’ Danny Quayle. Americans need to be assured that their Vice President will be someone they know and respect, who has an international reputation for getting the job done, no matter what the circumstances. Jack Daniels is that man. You may believe that the number two spot would stifle a great man like Jack. However, I can assure you that he will eventually occupy the Oval Office, since we all know that Jack Daniels will eventually kill me.

There’s been a lot of talk amongst the candidates about campaign financing, particularly about whether the use of so-called “hard” or “soft” money should be allowed. Like you, I have no idea what the hell this means. I can only tell you that my campaign will be financed with “hard” money, meaning that I intend to raise money through the sales of “hard” core pornography.

Rob, America's candidate, enjoys a cigarette after sex.

Many Americans have become disillusioned with the presidency as a result of last year’s impeachment scandal. They feel that the highest office in the land became weakened and besmirched when the President betrayed his marriage and allowed an intern to, putting it in the most delicate terminology, gobble his crank.  While I am unmarried, and will therefore be an unattached, eligible, horny, power-mad president, I would like to assure Americans that I would never sleep with an intern. It’s a shocking and inexcusable abuse of power to have sex with an employee when it’s so easy to take a deep breath, say “You’re fired,” and then whip it out.

Finally, the people of America are concerned that, as the baby boomers reach retirement age, Social Security and Medicare will be underfunded for future generations. I would like to assure you that I am already working on that problem. If elected, I will nuke Miami. Many of the retirees presently sucking off the Social Security and Medicare budgets live there, and as a fringe benefit, we can solve the Elian Gonzalez problem by reuniting him with his mommy.

So, when you’re in the voting booth in November, remember that the world’s image of the United States in the new Millennium is up to you. We can be perceived as a strong, dignified leader of human rights and the enduring power and wisdom of democracy, or we can be seen as the international equivalent of a drunken psychopath who hangs out all day in the back corner of a cruddy South Boston bar, with a .38 in his belt, a lust for teenagers and no regard whatsoever for human life. The next time some crazed foreigner nose-dives a plane full of Americans into the ocean, remember that no one fucks with an armed, drunken nut, and vote for Rob and Jack in 2000!