Now I was going to wait to bring out this idea, but it’s clear I have to be more aggressive and bold in this campaign. Now look — I’ve already told you how I’m going to end this era of partisanship. I’ve told you how I’m going to stop the drug companies from doing whatever it is you think you hate them for. I’m going to solve global warming, neutralize hurricanes and harness their power to run our factories. But the best part is something that I haven’t mentioned yet.

And that is, as President, I will make leap year permanent, and designate it a national holiday, which will be known as “Middle-Class Day”. On this day, every year, everyone will get a paid day off from work, which they will spend watching the Everybody Loves Raymond marathon, shopping at Best Buy with their government granted $10 gift card, and eating barbequed food cooked on their George Foreman grill.

I think I’ve been taking an unfair beating in the press for allowing gay-bashing Grammy Award-winning gospel artist, Donnie McClurkin, to campaign for me in South Carolina. Let me be painfully clear here: I love gay people. I really do. They represent a large part of my base. Do you think the homosexual populations of New York, Los Angeles, and San Francisco can get behind Hillary Clinton? Sure she LOOKS like a transsexual but her neo-liberal agenda won’t be doing them any favors, I promise you that.

Associated Press

I know, I know. It’s all happening so fast - just a four-day tour - but you’re not like any other state I’ve ever campaigned in before: you’re so politically advantageous! Now I see why you’re called the “Tall Corn State”; what with that arousing caucus of yours.

You produce the nation’s largest amounts of ethanol and, well baby, I’m trying to promote those kinds of alternative fuels as a way of breaking free from Middle Eastern oil. I’m trying to institutionalize comprehensive health care for all Americans, sugar-dumpling, and that sexy little capital of yours, Des Moines, just happens to be the epicenter for the insurance industry. We’re perfect for one another. And its alright that you got into the political bed with Bush back in 2004, we all make mistakes.

Yesterday morning I was sipping from a steaming cup of fair trade coffee and scanning the newspaper clippings my lovely wife Michelle prepares for me every day, when I saw this interesting piece in China View (Michelle is very thorough with the Asian papers).

Now, if I told you I didn’t do a double-take right there I would be lying like Hillary lies when she says she’s biologically a woman. So to speak, I was taken aback by the fact that she has an over fifty percent support rating in the Democratic party and I’m polling around twenty. Taken aback! Things were going so well in the Obama camp. What with Oprah and the internet in my back pocket this came as quite a surprise. How did that man-woman Hillary expand her lead in the polls?

I’ll be the first one to admit that I have sexual dreams, sometimes. I am a human just like you all. I bleed red blood, I cry salty tears, I graduated magna cum laude from Harvard Law School and was the first black president of the Harvard Law Review. And, yes, I will have the occasional illicit dream.

Often they’ll involve my lovely wife, Michelle, some scented candles, and Ladysmith Black Mombazo playing softly in the background. But sometimes my imagination wanders, never moreso than last night when I dreamt of this man:

Associated Pres

Some would ask, “is this the first time you’ve dreamt of Bill Clinton in a sexual way?” and I would say, “no, not really.” But it was the first time in a few years.

Associated Press

As the first ever African-American candidate with a real shot at the Presidency, this situation involving the young men known as the Jena 6 hits especially close to home. I mean, I have a real shot. I’m not happy about Jena, but I can’t blow this by being too black. Sorry Jessie.

Black women love me. Like REALLY love me. In the case of my lovely wife, Michelle, it’s the unbreakable and everlasting bond of marriage. In the case of

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Not to be a Smug Sam, but things are looking pretty good in the Barack-verse. The Times Online published an excerpt from my first book yesterday and I read just enough of it to remember that I’m a f**king great writer:

I was trying to raise myself to be a black man in America, and beyond the given of my appearance no one around me seemed to know exactly what that meant. TV, movies, the radio; those were the places to start. Pop culture was colour-coded, after all, an arcade of images from which you could cop a walk, a talk, a step, a style. I couldn’t croon like Marvin Gaye, but I could learn to dance all the Soul Train steps. I couldn’t pack a gun like Shaft or Superfly, but I could sure enough curse like Richard Pryor.

That is good shit, people. Scratch that, GREAT shit. Ralph Ellison, may he rest in peace, can lick my literary balls. Figuratively, of course. Seeing as he’s dead.

And the news finally broke about how my website gets twice as many hits as Hillary’s. Twice as many. For every misguided soul who confuses the hair on Hillary’s upper lip for a sign of true leadership ability, there are two Barack-a-maniacs just chomping at the bit, ready to go.

Sometimes, the wave of support I ride is overwhelming. Like when the Jews for Obama started selling Obama-kahs. Now I know what you’re saying.