This article is part of the Unlike My Opponent series.
Although Election Day is still many months away, the campaign season is in full swing. I would be remiss if I didn't throw my own hat back into the running. I have my flaws, sure. I'm not on speaking terms with many perfectly respectable dogs. I have abused the privilege of owning a megaphone on numerous occasions. But I am still a good candidate, one truly worthy of your vote.
For unlike my opponent...
I have never incited a race war at an ultra-lounge.
My family crest does not depict a shirtless savage biting the heads off of cats. It depicts a fat man wedging himself between two boulders to squeeze food out from both ends.
I don't hold any incorrect opinions. In fact, I hold no opinions whatsoever. I'm a blank slate and entirely agreeable to anything at any time. Let's be friends. Or not. I'm open to whatever.
I believe women should be treated with respect. That's why you won't find any harems in my opulent Arabian palace.
I never promised to govern "50 Shades of Grey" style. I've never read that book, or any book for that matter.
The skeletons in my closet are there for teaching purposes.
I eat common-people food like meat, potatoes and nourishing slog. I don't know what a "sushi" is and you won't find any in my belly.
My campaign events are safe and family friendly. At no point will feral dogs or menacing birds steal away your precious children.
I do not endorse building homes for the homeless that they can't get out of.
You won't find me or my social media team endorsing dangerous behavior. I will protect our children from deadly teen trends like cavemaning, where misguided youths freeze themselves in blocks of solid ice to earn internet cred.
I have a healthy respect for fire, and I definitely don't consider it highly arousing.
I never allow my own obese manchildren to perform demonic rituals in public, let alone provide them with animals to sacrifice.
I have never associated myself with Bosco Wong or any other notorious Hong Kong bad boy with a reputation for clubbing and womanizing.
I do not wear a blood-stained bib in public or private. My bib is clean and sanitary. There's a picture of a tugboat on it.
I did not waste valuable time or taxpayer money investigating Hillary Clinton's attempts to cover up Fugazi.
I have never been pursued by a relentless vigilante determined to avenge the murder of his wife.
I am pro-vaccination and stand firmly against hacking off the arms of inoculated children.
Masked men don't patrol my campaign rallies on horseback, and they certainly don't brand people indiscriminately.
My mind wasn't irreparably scared by the atrocities I committed overseas. Can my opponent say the same about his?
I don't keep a list of citizens I deem the "tastiest looking."
My breakaway Scientology sect isn't entirely dedicated to illegal reptile ownership.
My reputation with the DIY skin graft community couldn't be any more solid. There will always be a 3" piece of them above my heart.
My campaign rallies are about sharing a dialogue and finding solutions. They are never just about watching YouTube videos of sick crossbow kills.
I never have to be wrestled to the ground by riot cops after appearing in public.
I embrace our community, faults and all. I have never once tried to sell it wholesale to Russian oligarchs loyal to Putin, let alone trade it for sexual favors.
I have never wasted the precious time of our emergency responders by getting my thigh caught in a Dyson Airblade in a truck stop restroom.
I have never sold illegal hot dogs on any Deep Web marketplace and only a reasonable percentage of my net worth is tied up in digital cryptocurrencies.
I don't buy alcohol for teens, and I don't challenge them to drinking contests and lose.
You have the facts. Now it's up to you to store those facts like beautiful walnuts of truth in the cheeks of your mind. Guard them safely until it is time to write my name on a ballot and make me your leader. I look forward to micromanaging your every waking moment.
It is standard procedure for the White House to have a synthetic. But it sometimes malfunctions...
This VR game has become sentient and is killing us one by one. But is it art?
If you think Hitler was good, you've got another thing coming.
The Something Awful front page news tackles anything both off and on the Internet. Mostly "on" though, as we're all incredible nerds.
An ongoing list of reasons why you should vote for me and not my cowardly, lecherous, corpse-robbing opponent who never washes his hands.