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Wednesday, Nov. 5, 2008

Art the President

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I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? And so, my fellow Americans (you know who you are), let me tell you that it’s been a gosh darn long and twisted road that The Art Kumbalek Democracy Express for 2008 has traveled, lo, these past 22 years, and I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for your support and for finally elevating my status to that of leader of the free world as the next president of the United States. Of course I would like to know what the hell took so long, but you can get back to me with that, what the fock.

To those who would say that my declaration of victory is a premature ejaculation of triumphant exultation, I say, “Go to hell. And you can take Joe Blow Butt-Crack the Plumber Without a License with you.” What a knob that guy is, I kid you not.

As I sculpt these words of gratitude, you should know that it’s late on the afternoon of Nov. 4 and that all the polling stations from sea to shining sea are indeed still open for business. But hey, my personal deadline for slapping something together to be published in this newspaper week-to-week happens to be late Tuesday afternoon; so what the fock can I possibly do at this time other than write the news before it happens? Hey, you tell me.

And then I’ll tell you that as your leader I promise to hit the ground running my ass off instead of just dicking around until the January Inauguration Day. The first three things on my president-do list are these: One, ensure longer tavern hours and better-looking prostitutes in every nook and cranny of this country, especially those areas where the hysterical so-called Christian conservatives hang out ’cause I believe these people could use a little extra incentive to just plain relax and take the edge off; two, mandatory prayer on, and for, the public transportation, and mandatory learning in the public schools; three, a big honking federal government earmarked handout to the Milwaukee Brewers so as to sign-up the hefty lefty CC Sabathia to a gravy contract that lasts the next 20 focking years.

OK, more about all this later ’cause right now I’ve got to get over by the Uptowner tavern/charm school where I plan to monitor the self-affirming election returns on the TV, and where I expect to hear the chant of “Four More Beers! Four More Beers!” long throughout this electorally historic night god bless America, ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.

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