This article is part of the Unlike My Opponent series.
America is in the grip of election fever again. All across this great land our citizens face some truly difficult choices in the voting booth. One election is not so simple, and the choice couldn't be more clear. Vote for me, humble American, for unlike my opponent...
I don't run around town riling up every beehive and wasp nest, then laugh, confident I am impervious to their stings in my full scuba suit.
I refuse to holler at pretty ladies unless they are really, really asking for it.
I respect female reproductive freedoms, and have never instructed city agents to tape a "condemned" sign to a lady's stomach.
I don't own a catapult, and if I did I would certainly not use it to launch dogs into the town square.
I have never appeared on local public access television to promote pyramid schemes or sell serial killer memorabilia.
I have never recruited neighborhood thugs to participate in unethical medical experiments in my basement, giving them super strength and the ability to cuss louder.
You won't catch me waving or threatening the elderly with my mutant claw hand. Like many MCH sufferers, I wear a special glove that is both stylish and reassuring.
I believe government should serve the people, not hoist them up in large nets and dangle them over hungry wolves that are being electrocuted.
I supported the overthrow of Muammar Gaddafi, and I never considered him a close personal friend and mentor.
I support proper science education and oppose our schools teaching hollow earth theory.
I believe the president was born in America and have never questioned the authenticity of his birth certificate, let alone suggested he gained his human form by bartering with the devil.
I oppose plans to dump our seniors in tar pits, simply for creating "interesting things for future people to discover."
My campaign rallies do not involve me blathering into a tape recorder for hours on end about snails crawling on razors or how snipers are watching everyone from the trees.
I do not hire snipers to watch our good citizens from trees. They can do that on their own time.
I am proud to say nobody has ever contracted pinkeye from one of my campaign rallies, let alone everyone who attended.
I limit myself to wearing one Hard Rock Cafe t-shirt a week, and certainly not every day.
You won't find me rooting through your dumpster for scraps. I regained my memory and no longer believe myself to be a country bear.
I don't take out full page ads in the papers bragging about my sexual prowess and chronicling my exploits. I write a tasteful letter to the editor like everyone else.
I do not use military drones to surveil ex-wives and perspective girlfriends.
I do not wander around town slapping people in the butt with gym towels.
My home has never been featured on the show "Hoarders" and I have never been apprehended by Dog the Bounty Hunter.
You won't find me brandishing a loaded gun at campaign stops. For safety reasons we use only unloaded guns, except for our high-powered T-shirt cannons.
I completed the entire rabies treatment course and have been certified rabies-free by three different doctors and one Native American shaman.
I have zero tolerance for sex offenders, and absolutely do not treat the sex offender registry as a "high score list."
America, girl, you have your facts. The time has come for you to make an informed choice, and vote for me.
I have used my bot to create Olive Garden commercials. This is a bot I have. Don't question it.
Following America's defeat in World War 3, allied forces uncovered a number of experimental weapon prototypes in the hotel-compound of Trump's loyalist Space Force army. Had the war continued just a few more months, these secret weapons would have changed the course of the war.
Are there arrows in Tomb Raider? "No. Absolutely not."
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.