November 19, 2008
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If you know anything about me, you know that I’ve always been fascinated with American presidents. Well, all except one. Anywho, last night I found myself on this website not only taking a presidential quiz but also reading about every president. I got a 66% before reading the profiles of the presidents. You might think 66% is not all that good, but I’m bet that is higher then most people would score. Anywho, here is the link:
http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/blotter/chi-presidents-photogallery,0,6466822.photogallery
I think it was because of reading this last night it made me have a dream that I was being inaugurated as the next president. It was a really odd dream, we weren’t in Washington at all, instead we were in some sort of dim run down building (which probably represents what the presidency has become with Bush in office) with only about 40 people or so. I get up and stage to be sworn in. I’m wearing short red satin shorts. That’s it, shorts. nothing else, no shirt, no shoes no socks. These shorts I’m wearing are a pair of Chicago Bulls shorts that I got for Christmas about 12 or 13 years ago. They are worn out and I never wear them anymore but can’t bring myself to part with them. Anywho, I’m on stage wearing nothing but shorts. Apparently there isn’t a no shirt, no shoes no service rule to be inaugurated as president. Then again, if I’m president I guess I can wear whatever I want to my inauguration. So they bring out the bible right and ask me to put my hand on it to which I respond “You want ME to put my hand on THAT?” They reply yes to which I repeat myself somewhat baffled at the fact that they are asking an Atheist to swear on the bible. Right about then some old dude in the crown named Mike (not me, I checked) passes out. Everybody looks at him and they start to take him to the hospital. So everybody leaves and I’m standing there on stage all by myself, saying “but, I’m supposed to be inaugurated, I’m going to be the first one, what about my inauguration?” Everybody ignores me. Maybe its because I was nearly naked. So I go outside and stand on the steps, worried that I’m going to get shot since I’m such a target. I turn and wait for my secret service agents to protect me but they don’t show up, for whatever reason everybody is busy tending to that dope Mike who passed out. I then say “where is my secret service, I don’t want to get shot as I’m vulnerable to attacks out here?” Still nothing, its like nobody is even paying attention to me. Then I wake up.
Fucked up shit, aint it?
