politics

My Vision for America

~ dangrubb ~ Leave a comment

Some day, I’d like to be elected President of the United States of America. And then I’d get a bunch of great laws passed and try to improve everybody’s lives. I’d assemble the best and brightest around for my advisors and cabinet and together we’d hammer out the best solutions possible to all of the nation’s woes.

And then, one brisk January morn, thousands would gather to witness another in the steady line of peaceful transfers of power as the highest office in the land is handed from one honorable citizen to another. And there on that podium, as my successor waits to be sworn in, I’d stand in front of a microphone and address the world, declaring, “So long suckers! I’ll see you all in Hell!” Then I’d run off into the woods so the new guy couldn’t be inaugurated. They’d never find me, and I’d be President forever. Yes, my friend, that is my vision for America.

Another Press Conference from Senator Bigfoot (R-Ore.)

~ dangrubb ~ Leave a comment

Good evening. As you may be aware, I have been the subject of some false, illegitimate, and divisive rumors lately. I wish to put an end to these rumors here and now. First of all, I at no time sold any of my children to anyone for any reason. The failing news media has doctored a lot of photos — cherished family photos — to add a third child. I have never seen this child and I resent the implication that he is somehow related to me and that I sold him to a Congolese guerrilla army as a child soldier. Look, it’s a horrific tragedy that these groups are doing this, but I’ve seen the photos and just because there’s a kid there with shaggy fur-like hair all over their body and a loping, simian stride and an American accent and a blazer from Saint Matthew of the Solvency it doesn’t mean he’s mine, and it’s offensive that such gossip persists.

There have also been rumors — unFOUND rumors — of some illicit video of myself and certain foreign nationals involving lemon meringue, a ball python, a team of Chinese acrobats, a series of flags, and an electric chair. I can now state unequivically that I at no time took part in any such activity, that even if I did, I didn’t know it was being filmed, and that until a copy surfaced I didn’t realize they even had a tennis trophy.

Finally, the fake left-wing media and the lying 63% of the country and the unstable, shrieking intelligence community have invented a (hah) bizarre conspiracy theory that I made a deal with Isis in which they returned all copies of this supposed tape in exchange for weaponized uranium. Not only is such a charge outrageous and frankly unpatriotic to make, it is also an insult to my business acumen to think I would accept such a deal. After some impressive negotiations I was able to get them to throw in $11.58 into the alleged deal that doesn’t exist and never happened. Look, uranium goes missing all the time. It’s a notoriously slippery element. Why do you think we make bombs out of it? I mean, come on. Ask a scientist.

Excuse me? Yes, I understand. I’m just going to go with these gentlemen of my own volition (ow, that hurts!) and have a friendly chat about nothing serious. [struggling] Sports or microbrewing or something. [being dragged away] God bless America!

Press Conference of Senator Bigfoot (R-Ore.) Upon His Return

~ dangrubb ~ Leave a comment

(from my second and better collection of short humor, “Pity the Slug!“)

Good morning. Thank you for coming. I’ve got a brief statement and then I’ll take a few questions. Okay.

There are once again rumors going around regarding my conduct. I would like to take this opportunity to put those rumors to rest.

First: When I prematurely concluded my remarks in La Grande, it was of my own volition and no one, including myself, was ever in any harm.

Second: I was at no time under the influence of any substances of any kind. I was not, as the fringes of the liberal media have claimed, having a bad trip. I have been very public about my struggles with mescaline and peyote in the past, but that is all behind me.

Third: It’s true that when I was found earlier this week, I was under the influence of peyote. However, this was not due to my falling off the wagon. I was simply having an existential crisis and used certain substances such as peyote to reconcile my identity as a quasi-mythical figure of American folklore with that of a three-term senator and Ranking Member of the Senate Subcommittee on Competitiveness, Innovation, and Export Promotion. I’m proud to say that the, for want of a better term, therapy was successful and that I feel more than ready to return to office when we reconvene.

Finally, I’d like to take a moment to thank the good people of Oregon for standing by me in this time, especially my beautiful, caring wife, Linda. Thank you, Linda, for keeping things afloat while I was a little bit out to sea.

And now I’ll take some questions. Yes, Jack.

No, I’m afraid that’s not true. I was not aware of the officer’s presence during the incident. I was, in fact, firing at ghosts in the woods.

Yes, Maggie.

I’m sorry?

Yes, that theory has been brought to my attention, that the ghosts could be simply hallucinatory manifestations from my inner psyche. My Chief of Staff Stu and my beautiful and caring wife Linda in particular insist on promoting that explanation, but I know what I saw and I know what I believe, and I will not be dissuaded by a theory based in lamestream liberal science.

Let’s see. Andrew.

Now, I don’t see why we’re harping on this. It’s not a big deal. I was feeling better, so I came down from the mountains to reestablish contact with my team and my family. I was suddenly surrounded by ghosts and I did as any red-blooded American would and defended myself. There happened to be a police patrolman in the area and he drove me into town. He was reluctant at first because someone had shot out his window and one of his lights, but he calmed down once I handed him my weapon. I got home, reunited with my family, and a couple of days later here we are. It seems pretty cut and dry to me.

Yes, Howard.

It was a 1974 Colt Python. 8 3/8-inch barrel.

Say again?

I kept it the same place anyone would whose clothes had been stolen by ghosts: in my clenched, unwavering hand.

Thanks, everyone. That’s all the time I have for questions. I have an urgent appointment that it was completely my own decision to schedule.