Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Rockin' Republic

There’s a lyric from a Faith No More song, “Falling to Pieces,” that perfectly describes how I feel about certain of life’s most pertinent issues. The current crop of spring shoe fashions. Running. Crunchy Cheetos versus Puffy. And, of course, politics. It goes like this: “I’m somewhere in between my love and my agony.”

First, there is the absolute, passionate love I have for the good ol’ U.S. of A., which, to steal from Craig Ferguson, is the single greatest idea anyone’s ever had for a country, ever, in the history of the universe. Amen.

Then there’s my agony. Being, of course, the fact that 99.987 percent of the assholes running the gub’ment and the idiots who put them in office have forgotten this important fact.

So as much as I’d like to la, la, la, la, la myself into believing that we’re all big enough boys and girls to live under what I consider to be the El Perfecto, Ne Plus Ultra of poleetical systems (anarcho-capitalism), I realize that, unfortunately, we are not. Big enough. Responsible enough. Non-ADD enough.

Ergo, gub’ment. A necessary evil.

At the very least, then, I can participate by positing what it would look like if Moi were in charge.

Here ya go:

Moi's Running Mate: the Ivanator. He’s got enough pit bull in him to stand firm on the issues, enough Shar-pei to use his facial wrinkles to disguise the fact that he’s snoozing away in session when things get downright yawn-inducing.

Moi's Weapons of Mass Distraction: Ms R, EmmaK, Cake, Luka, Kiki. Not only do these gals have better abs, boobs, and behinds than our enemies, they’re smarter, too. I realize Ms R will have to take time off from her own dictatorship (and will hopefully give me time off from my duties as Minister of Fashion), but it shouldn’t require much effort on anyone’s part. North Korea starts acting all grumpy, I suspect all it will take to shut ‘em up is a little T&A and some kitchen wizardry. In return, all Moi’s Weapons get a lifetime’s supply of Louboutins and revolving credit at Agent Provacateur.

Moi’s Muscle: Da Pirate. She tough. She eats mileage like some people eat bon-bons. And she looks good while doing it, which is über importante in Moi’s administration. Not only will she serve as tough and stylish personal protection por Moi, she’ll whip the rest of this flabby-assed country into shape, too. You know how Mao had all the Chinese under this thumb wake up with mandatory Tai Chi? Well, here’s a hint: buy running shoes. And quit yer cryin’. In exchange, Moi’s gub’ment will pay for a lifetime of triathlon entry fees for her, her family, and sixty five of her closest friends.

Moi's Karl Rove/Official State Photographer/Musical Arranger: I Am Not. He is in charge of always, always, always making sure each and every one of us gals looks gorgemous in all photos and of ensuring that proper background music accompanies us wherever we go. Disco is good. So is Iggy Pop. And he can have all the female interns he needs to assist him with his tasks. In exchange, he gets, well, access to female interns.

Moi's Second Photographer in Charge: Meghan. The only reason you're not first is that you work hard enough as it is, and dang, girlfriend, with two rock stars to raise, I figure you don't need the stress. So just feel free to wander the White House grounds at your leisure and take photos of whatever you want and nap in between. Husband and children in tow, of course. 'cept hubby will have to leave the Crocs at home.

Moi's Ambassadorships: I don’t really want a cabinet, per se. I mean, yawn, that’s, like, waaaaay too much trouble. So I’m just gonna send a bunch of people out into the universe and let ‘em do their thing, as follows:

Da Troll: Ambassador to both Denmark (so he can score good beer for us, hot chicks for himself) and Russia (so he can make for damn sure the commies never rear their poorly dressed heads ever again). Troll is also Minister of All Things Food and Wine-y, which means he most likely gets to confer with the Weapons on occasion.

She: Ambassador to Iceland. Where she will spend her days learning the fine art of Viking toughness, eating smoked fish, drinking bathtub vodka, and creating unique performance art pieces with Björk. Plus, Trout will get to run around free as a big brown dog should because Iceland’s an island and what’s Trout gonna do, swim back to Georgia?

Anonymous Boxer: Ambassador to Switzerland. You know, I’ve never quite trusted Switzerland and if there’s anyone who can keep tabs on this tricky lil’ country, it’s AB. All lovely and luminous and even-tempered on the one hand, possessed of a dangerous-ass left hook on the other. Plus, she's got all them Chihuahuas. Sting like a bee, girlfriend. And bring back chocolate and blingy timepieces.

Aunty: Ambassador to the U.N. That’ll learn those pansy asses. All I’m saying is, they have NO idea just how effective a weapon a Bottega Veneta bag, backed up with a Blahnik stiletto heel and a Southern will, can be against Pakistani stupidity.

Wicked Thistle and Doris Rose: Ambassadors to Belize. I was gonna have them be Moi’s administration’s official scribes, but I know, just know, they’ll put off the assignment to the very last minute and then they’ll panic and nothing at all will get written. Besides, they’re most excellent at conveying a certain kind of Gallic-shrugged, cigarette-butt-flipped nonchalance that this administration needs in times of crisis. In other words: “Oh, Belgium is threatening to leave the E.U. and so no chocolates for Christmas ? Meh . . . let ‘em eat Hershey’s.”

NYD: Ambassador to Japan. Because he already lives there and can therefore provide Moi’s administration with the bestest sushi evah.

Czar: Ambassador to South of France: (Note I write South. The ONLY part of France Moi tolerates.) Because it just seems to me you spend most of your life copy editing what he's copy-edited (I mean, airline schedules, that's hardcore), you deserve to spend the rest of your life on a beach eating fois gras.

Oops, almost forgot the most important post of all. I need someone in charge of all things girly-girl (day spas, beauty salons, luncheon spots, shopping sprees) so that when we're done with all this guverning, we can relax and pig out on champagne and sushi and candy. While getting our nails done. I think Ms Thursday Next, no stranger to self-pampering, would most likely be Our Gal Friday for that.

So that should do it. If I left anyone out, let me know what you want to do and I’m sure I can wiggle you in somewhere. The rest of you all, you can just relax and enjoy the fruits of our labors.

Oh, and one last thing. You may have asked yourself: “What about your beloved S.B.? What’s he gonna do?”

You kidding me?

Man’s been waiting fifty gazillion years for me to finally snag the presidency so he can retire and spend the rest of his days hitting golf balls on the White House lawn in preparation for his eventual status as PGA star. Troll, I’m going to rely on your to send your cousin on over to assist in the task. In fact, I’m going to rely on the only three dudes in Moi’s administration to make sure S.B. is entertained at all times. Otherwise, he’ll start in with the home improvement projects and I'll get grumpy. If you have to use beer and female interns to get the job done, well, la, la, la, la, la, just make sure I don’t hear about it.


h said...

Brilliant post and excellent choices. Especially A-Boxer to keep an eye on those untrustworthy Swissies!

Open-faced Viking Sandwiches and LOTS of Danish Vodka and Beer for the innaugaration party!

As for Russia, with your permission, I think I'll ask them nicely to:

1) Revert back to the Brezhnev-Era of Fashion and Eyebrow Trimming.

2) Continue to bully their neigbors.

3) Drive up energy prices.

4) Increase their support of thuggish muslib regimes like those in Iran and Syria.

5) Make Putin Dictator-for-Life

My theory is that they'll reflexively do the exact opposite of all-of-the-above.

P.S. Cousin Boo says he'd rather be " President of Hunt'n N Fish'n" than White House Golf Instructor.

Gnomeself Be True said...

Er...em...I'm sort of embarrassed to ask...but...uh...do you think I can have one or two interns, sort of...um...in advance?

It's a use it or lose it sort of thing and I just want to be sure I can still "serve" to the best of my ability.

Jenny said...

I love this post! Especially your running mate... I mean, who'd mess with a pitt wearing a tiara?

And I gratefully accept my assignment as diplomat AND spy for Switzerland. I've always thought their whole "But we're neutral" thing sounded fishy and I'm ready to stand tall for you and 'Merica.

I'd be happy to send Iamnot some Swiss Interns.. as if he's nice I'll make sure they don't speak English.

Doris Rose said...

wasn't looking for a job...but Belize? hell ya! WT and I will be packed and on a plane 5/31. Reports to follow.

moi said...

Troll: Way to take the reigns, dude. I'm fine with huntin' and fishin', too. Just remember: golf, hunt, fish, beer: GOOD. Home improvement projects: BAD.

Iamnot: Well, certainly. Wouldn't want you falling down on the job. But I'm not sure the Shrub is in a lending mood; check in with AB, though. I think she's got a handle on some Swiss Misses.

AB: Why, oh why, do I get a sneaking suspicion this administration is going to be all about managing the male contingent?

Doris: Excellent. Oh, and we'll be needing a Camp Belize. So y'all can scout that out, too.

sparringK9 said...

wow! what a delightful post on a day when i cant stop smiling!!! excellent timing moi! just in time to step in as obama implodes. grrrerhahahaha!! ya'll - ive been to some lib sites this afternoon and they are disturbed; hornet-nest like. "its hillarys fault! no its obama! no rev. wrong!" grrrerhahahahahaha

i cant wait to leave! i love snow gear. now i have a reason to wear those arctic columbia boots i bought. and me and bjork? we're going swan huntin - you to know, flesh, or er, feather our clothing collection. we'll get the sugar cubes back in the band and rock out beneath the aurora borealis. and i will protect with the full might of the US armed forces icelands borders.

i will make icelandic vodka so cheap absolut will never recover. we'll set up reagans star warz systems on the island. how you like that putin! all endangered polar bears will be brought to the island and fed al qaeda combatants. endangered status solved! i will run a contest to select snow bunnies to assist iamnots office.

thank you ms president (i cannot call you madam) i wont let you down!

what a great day. :-)

Ms Robinson said...

Absolutely brilliant Moi and one of my favourite posts anywhere for a long time.

Frankly I'd do it without the shoes and lingerie but the incentive helps especially when we have work to do.
As you know Dictatorships and the US of A have been happy bedfellows in the past and I see no problem with you and I working alongside.

My plan is to solve the Palestinian/Israeli issue and indeed any Middle Eastern problems with BACKGAMMON. This game originated in this part of the world and it's well known that once you start playing you can't stop. So we'll give everyone a fair amount of land and then every time they get upset we'll organise a Backgammon tournament and make them play in order to distract them. Of course this means they will be playing all the time and nothing will get done but it will make them happy and us happier.

Similarly I propose Pakistan become one huge cricket pitch (they love the game) and the country becomes a permanent cricket tournament. That should fix it.

Aunty Belle said...

--Southern Times Picayune --
In a stunning turn of events, the Democratic Party imploded after Michelle Obama took her Jimmy Choos off to beat Senator Clinton into silly putty while on an Indiana whistle stop tour.

Sen Obama remained unflapped, "Can we get some help down here? She's only fainted, is there water?

The Rev. Jeremiah Wright told the National Press Club that Michelle Obama was delivering roosting chickens to the Clintons, and to say otherwise was to misunderstand Black hospitality.

Howard Dean YEOWWWED! until the White Coats arrived, but John McCain volunteered to save the party from extinction by switching affiliations and merging party platforms. Rasmussen polls put McCain two points ahead ahead of Monica Lewinsky as befuddled delegates headed to Denver.

With the Republican field open before her, Moi le Chaussure swept the convention, then waltzed easily past the aged bi-party unifier to take the Oval Office.

The whole world waits with measured
apprehension. President Le Chaussure is known to favor people of untried merit for her closet--having disbanded the cabinet.

"Grandmother Moi Buckley always said she would rather be governed by first thousand names in the New York phone book than by any clown with a government I.D. "

Chris Matthews of MSNBC reports his tingling leg has atrophied but when
President Le Chaussure's image flashes upon the screen his salivary glands kick into overdrive causing him to froth at the mouth.

Matthews' condition excites Presidential pooches, a Pit-Pei and Shar-Bull prompting White House staffers to change the channel of the monitors to Top Dog.

Times Picayune reporter Jolene Slatterly won the press lottery and will be covering the Inaugural Ball. The Belt Way Buzz speculates that the Elie Saab and Vera Wangs that hang from the Blue Room chandeliers are meant to throw fashionistas off the scent. Only the Shadow knows what Moi le Chaussure will wear to this historic Inaugural Ball.

moi said...

She: Well, it is one of the top goals of Moi's Administration to provide her pals with muy fun fashion opportunities. So Snow Bunny it out, girl and send along the bill. I like your idea for the polar bears, too . . .

Ms R: See there, I knew I made the right choice granting you the position of Head Weapon. Your plan is absolutely brilliant. And I can't stop laughing at the image of Backgammon boards stretched out across the desert landscape. Oh, and it is of course a presidential decree that the Ms R Dictatorship is not to be questioned.

Aunty: What a piece of writing! Between you and Ms R, the pen is, indeed, mightier than the sword. We will rule the world with board games and pithy turns of phrase. And lots of leg.

(Moi's title, BTW, is perfect.)

And now, as you mentioned, the hard work begins: what to wear to the inauguration?

Ms Robinson said...

Oh god what to wear...this is a whole other topic. Meanwhile I have games to organise..the whole world will play games!

moi said...

I know. Oscar de la Renta? Alexander McQueen? Vivienne Westwood? All I know is, ladies: NO BUBBLE SKIRTS.

Aunty Belle said...

A vintage Balenciaga

h said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
ThursdayNext said...

I would like to take this opportunity to let the citizens know that I will do all I can to ensure that your President (the phenomenal Miss Moi) will always have pink polished toes (to kick some ass with), cream colored nails (to shake fingers at all those who mess with US), a milk bath each evening after discussing important matters with the Ivanator, cucumber on her eyes after a meeting with her illustrious cabinet, and exfoliation as needed. Also, I am pricing an aromatherapy unit to be installed in Moi's oval office. Perhaps a waft of creme brulee scent?

I think Moi's first 100 days needs to show her serious side...and she can only do that with a different scarf from Hermes each of those days.


ThursdayNext said...

PS I am totally on Ivan's groom care even though he is a boy. Will he mind doggie shampoo that is raspberry scented???

moi said...

Thursday: Perfect! And good thinking on the Hermes scarf front. It's all in the details and you, obviously, are a detail person.

As for the Ivanator, alas, that dog hasn't seen water since the last time it rained (October 2007). Seriously. He grooms himself like a cat, though. But if your charming ways can coax that dog into a tub, there's bonus EVERYTHING in it for you.

h said...

New Troll Meme starts tomorrow.

The Poet Laura-eate said...

Ours should be called the 'Grubment' I reckon.

I too love my country but hate those running it (and didn't vote for them either!). I don't see a conflict in that though, it's just unfortunate that the worst meglomaniacs tend to be those who put themselves forward for high office.

Meghan said...

Brilliant post!

You have my vote, and my official job acceptance. Perfect. Though, hubby may stay home if I ban his precious Crocs. Oh well.

Wicked Thistle said...

You had me at the Ivanator. Now I'm gonna go read me the rest of the post.

Joanna Cake said...

Dear Moi, I accept with gratitude your post as a WMD. Naturally it will mean that I get lots of guys in uniform checking that Im not being concealed anywhere. I am, however, a little concerned at MsR selecting the outfits. She's tall and elegant whereas I am... well, neither. I would ask you both to bear this in mind when making the wardrobe choices...

PS I ought to point out that my culinary skills really arent up to much but I can normally blag it by offering a distraction to the burnt fishfingers...

moi said...

Poet: "Grubment" That's priceless!

Meghan: Oh Lord, the man can give up something, can't he? I'll buy him all the Keens he wants.

Thistle: Belize, baby, Belize.

Cake: Oh goody, you're on board. And rest assured, we have clothing for everyone. Mostly, though, what I need is for you to flash your bum a lot. We'll put EmmaK in charge of the actual cake-making.

Joanna Cake said...

Making Cake what?