Gore Wouldn't Run Again For a Million, Trillion Dollars

he anemic field of Democratic candidates, described by political pundits as “what the A-team would be like if it was really gay,” has inspired many Democrats to push for another Al Gore candidacy in 2004. Perhaps not grasping the ramifications of four more years with Boy George at the helm, thus far the former vice-president has steadfastly refused.

“I wouldn’t run for president again for a million, trillion dollars,” Gore told reporters last December. “Nor for all the tea in China.”

”Not even for true love?” a reporter questioned.

“No,” answered Gore. “Not even for that.”

However, Gore did concede later that if this reporter was holding a gun to the head of an innocent newborn baby, he might consider it. Though he did seem a little weirded out by the question.

Recent polls in New Hampshire show that if Gore were to enter the race for the Democratic Party nomination, he would immediately become the front-runner in that state. These polls showed that the same also holds true for Hillary Rodham Clinton, George Clinton, and Kool-Aid Man, the gigantic pitcher of powdered beverage famous for busting through walls and responding in the affirmative. Various Democratic candidates have denounced the poll as mean, but true.

Speaking with the commune this week, Gore’s position on his potential candidacy remained unchanged.

“Would you, could you, if it rained?” this reporter asked the non-candidate.

“I would not, could not if it rained,” responded Gore. “Nor if my brain had gone insane. I meant what I said and I said what I meant: I will not run for president! Now leave me be!”

Other scenarios that would fail to entice Gore to run include learning the secrets behind various Carly Simon songs, a blimp full of naked cheerleaders landing in his backyard, or having a southern state renamed Goregia.

Several political commentators have suggested that Gore would prefer to go down in history as the man who was denied the presidency by an antiquated electoral system and corrupt election officials in Florida, rather than risk losing a second election to a man who has been amply exposed as one of the less-memorable bit characters on Dukes of Hazzard. Those who know Gore dismiss this idea as absurd, though they could totally see Bush giving the Duke boys the what-for.

Gore supporters suggest instead that the former vice-president simply doesn’t wish to subject the public to a Gore v. Bush rematch, or spend the next year of his life debating with a man who moves his lips when he reads.

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"You don't have to be stupid to work here, but you're never going to get workman's comp with that attitude."

I don't like mechanics. Every time my car breaks down and I take it in they asked me if I did something and they already know the answer. "Did you do the regular maintenance thingmajig we told you?" Duh, dumbass, if I did it do you think I would be back here two days later? Then they tell me I should get a road plan for towing and shit since I'm in the shop every week. Nice job, jerk-offs. You don't sell somebody something by making them feel stupid. Unless you're selling those "For Dummies" books, I guess.

I have lots of those "For Dummies" books, because they're my favorites. I've got Surfing for Dummies, Sex for Dummies, Jingoism for Dummies, Safari for Dummies, and Antidisestablishmentarianism for Dummies. I didn't even get through the cover for that one. Best of all, I got all the books for free, since I got Shoplifting for Dummies. I should have picked that one up first, but it's easy to second-guess after the arrest.

The worst one I ever got was Self-Esteem Building for Dummies. I read the whole book and only felt more like an idiot. After all, only a real shithead would finish a book for dummies.

The dummies books are real popular now. They even have people copying them. They have books for idiots, books for novices, books for attention-deficit disorder sufferers, all kinds of things. There's probably a better way to do it. I sure wouldn't want someone calling me a dummy, if I weren't such a retard. So there's a whole market out there you can tap into. I would call them "Books for Smart Dudes Who Have to Explain Things to Dummies All the Time." You just re-print the same book. The only difference is you put in stuff before it, like, "Okay, you and me already know this, but pretend this total knob asks you to put it in simple terms for him…" That way no one's feelings get hurt and you feel pretty suave and get all the same information anyway.

If I was going to do a book for dummies, I would figure out why they're dummies. I could call it, Why You're a Dummy. Or Why You Can't Buy a Regular Book. The whole thing is a huge scam. It's all the same stuff dummies wouldn't read because they were intimidated before. In fact, I'm going to make a fortune because I'm going to reprint all my columns and just put "for Dummies" on the end of the titles. And charge them, 'cause dummies will pay for anything. It will help me pay back for all that merchandise they want reimbursement for.

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Everyone here has had a gay old time over the weekend, some an extremely gay old time, but I'm not naming names (Larry and Mitch). For the lateness in the year dictated it was time for the annual commune picnic/field day combination.

Why have you never heard of this before? you ask. To which I counter, What are you implying? If you're insinuating there's a conspiratorial angle to this picnic/field day of ours, I say you're pissing up the wrong rope. Go bother the president or some corporation, Upton Sinclair. I'm merely trying to tell everyone what a good time we had the annual company picnic/field day.

Anyone who's heard numerous compliments to Lil Duncan's sack-racing ability shouldn't be surprised Lil holds her title once again as queen in the sack. Raoul Dunkin came extremely close to winning this year, then suddenly stopped before the finish line—I would guess the idea of adding "queen in the sack" to his list of ever-growing titles wasn't a happy thought. Lil wouldn't have even been challenged, I expect, if I hadn't been sharing the sack with her. It was quite a confusing registration this year, let's leave it at that.

Bludney Plud came in last place, to no one's surprise. I sometimes think he relishes the attention for always coming in last. He does come in last in everything, including the Typing Contest and the Belle of the Picnic pageant. As usual, Lil felt a little robbed when Stigmata Spent won yet again, but if you have the legs, you just have 'em.

The picnic planners, me and my Sampson L. Hartwig hat, allowed a new event this year: The build-and-race-your-own-go-cart contest, following Omar's suggestion. We decided it was better to just hold the contest and see what happens rather than run the risk of Mr. Bricks crashing the picnic with another highly-flammable go-cart made at home. It was quite a rousing success, though Ivan Nacutchacokov lost two fingers in the process, even not involved in the building or racing. I say anything is a good time now that we have the ability to surgically reattach limbs.

The food was better than ever this year. Clarissa Coleman brought a soup made of things she was about to throw out from her fridge. I didn't actually try it, but Boner Cunningham said it was good shortly before passing out—it sounded like he was going to say good, more of a guttural sound from the back of the throat. Roland McShyster even provided the entertainment for the whole thing, a viewing of the Hulk movie he downloaded illegally from the internet. I'm not much on films, truthfully, but that Bill Bixby is quite the actor, and the Hulk looked quite realistic for computer animatronics. After that, Roland treated us to a surprise "jam" band featuring Omar Bricks, Rok Finger's friend Lee, and Ted Ted on drums. It was more aesthetic music than I'm used to, more appealing to the mind than fun for its musical sounds, such as Omar eating the microphone then regurgitating it, but I say let the kids enjoy their fun and let a stodgy older fellow like me stay out of the way.

If there's one thing I took home from that picnic, besides the peculiar brownies made by Boris Utzov, it was the commune is more like my family than my original family. At least I talk to the commune staff once a year or more. It was a shame to have spent so much time without them on the road, but I swear I'll make it up to them by being the best darned editor forever on out.

Also, if anyone knows the specific whereabouts of Features Editor Mazie the Chicken, please inform us immediately. I'm afraid I tore through the barbecue chicken roast a little too fast, and I'm worried for her safety.

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