When I’m elected president, I promise to battle for more accurate cup measurements on coffee carafes. Hardworking Americans should not have to suffer through the vile lies of Mr. Coffees that promise six cups and then spit out a measly two and change.
I shall solve our tight napkin holder crisis on day one of my administration. Benjamin Franklin did not lay down his life in the Battle of Las Vegas so everyday people have to pull desperately at plastic death traps clutching oh so desperately to their precious papery cargo the way Republicans cling to Ronald Reagan’s scraggly gray pubes.
I shall reclassify ranch dressing as a public utility and ensure that a steady stream of tangy goodness is piped into the home of every American. No child shall ever involuntarily go to school with a dry ass turkey sandwich on my watch. Should you wish to bathe in creamy dressing–as historians have revealed that the great Thomas Jefferson preferred–then you should exercise your god given right as an American and dive right in!
We will tax the bejesus out of anyone who unironically refers to him or herself as an influencer, and designate the resulting funds for use in grants designed to drive America’s youth to blogging majors at our public universities.
Corporate interests will have no voice in the White House, unless it’s Vince McMahon or Tony Khan offering me front row seats.