The First 100 Days ... After: A Primer for George W. Bush


Coping With Cancellation: A Presidential Primer
Fish vs. Pond: People are judged on a relative scale. When you were the President, the citizenry of the United States (or at least 29% of them) granted you the use of all of their collective balls (and, for the sake of sexual equality, let’s say ovaries). This left you with huge, swinging ovary testicles that you could fluff and sit on and show off basically anywhere you went. Your balls were so stuffed with ovaries that you had to have guys in black suits and plastic wires in their ears with you at all times. Well, like the aged tend to do, your balls have shrunk. The important thing is to display them in their best light, like how holding a ping-pong ball next to a Monopoly house makes the ping-pong ball look huge by comparison.



- Preemptively trim a neighbor’s encroaching hedges before they can invade your lawnspace.
- Orchestrate a massive surge…of delicious, homemade bean dip!
- Bug the driveway with a concealed baby monitor to find out who keeps swiping your newspaper.
- Use the neighborhood newsletter to leak vital information regarding Laura’s Vagisil prescription.
- Hold an impromptu press conference with the family dog to announce your withdrawal from the yard.
- Watch an old war movie and pretend like you know why the losing side lost.
- Finally get back at that kid who keeps egging your car by violently invading the house of someone who has nothing to do with him, but looks kind of similar.
- Call and demand a recount of your cellular minute overages.
- Veto Laura’s yam casserole. Or, if she topped it with a layer of marshmallow, consider a line-item veto.
- Head on down to the local hardware store and locate the WMD’s (Weapons of Mouse Destruction).
- Beat one of your children, just so they know who’s boss.


When not clinging to election reportage for dear life, Michael serves as head writer and co-founder of Those Aren't Muskets!