Okay, some staffer just handed me a story about how I'm being sued by Jackson Browne because we used "Running on Empty" in one of my ads.

I have two questions. One who picked a lame Jackson Browne song? Because whoever did is fired.

And two--do I care what Jackson Browne thinks? I spent five and a half years in a Viet Cong prison camp. Do you think I'm gonna get upset because the King of Southern California Wimp Rock got his feelings hurt?

Let me tell you--being attacked by someone like Jackson Browne is a politician's dream. I'm looking down the list of losers he's backed since he turned "political". Al Gore and John Kerry. Like I say, this is money in the bank. If I knew where to find the internet, I'd put this up on my website.

Hey, I've got an idea. Let's use one of The Eagles songs next! I could win all 50 states!

Friends, my esteemed opponent is a good-looking man. I would call him handsome, even gorgeous. You just look into those eyes of his, that presidential chin, and you can just lose yourself in his beautiful, beautiful promises of ending war and solving the energy crises if we only pump our tires up.

So in no way was my new campaign ad attacking him. My advertising people merely innocently asked some attractive young white women what they thought of Obama, and they replied that they loved his "aura," his "soft eyes," and wanted him to "ride me all night long while reading his 2004 Democratic National Convention speech." (That last one we didn't put in the ad.)

Heck, it's a compliment. I'm just saying he has lots and lots of young white women who would be his groupies. I don't have any groupies, because my wife is enough for me. I don't understand why people imply there is a racist undertone to the ad. I'm congratulating Obama on being an incredibly hot piece of man meat who would have the chance, if he got elected, to get more white girls in his bed than Bill Clinton after a sax concert.

My campaign is all about reaching out to people who are looked down upon by my skinny opponent, who actually asked a farmer if he'd gone into Whole Foods lately and checked the price of arugula. The farmer said he hadn't seen any since The Return of Godzilla, in which Arugula was defeated in an epic tag-team match with Rodan and Mothra.

No, the reason I'm going to win this thing is that Obama doesn't understand ordinary Americans. People like I met at a giant motorcycle rally in Sturgis, South Dakota the other day. Good hard-working folks like the guy with the pony-tail and the snake eyes tattoo named "Pig Pen" and his old lady, Wanda. Pig Pen is a, well he didn't actually say what he does for a living, but he struggles to make ends meet what with gas at $4 a gallon and sales of cocaine flat due to uncertain job prospects for college students.

Obama can't relate to regular folk like the topless women you'll find at fun, family events such as the Miss Buffalo Chip contest. He's spent his whole adult life in academia, where the sight of a topless woman sets off a spirited discussion of the semiotics of the female mammary gland. Whoop-de-freaking-doo--am I right Pig Pen? I thought so.

It's August 4th which makes today a very special day for a certain Democratic candidate. That's right, Barack Obama turns forty seven today, and I call shenanigans. Why, you ask?  Well it's pretty clear, my friends, that Barack is staging this whole "celebration" to try and snag some of my magic.

Getting older, Barack? Very original. We both know where you got that from. It's obvious that you've seen my cunning strategy of aging before the public eye and you want some of this for yourself. Well I'll tell you this, the American People know who the real aging candidate in this election is. 

So happy God damn birthday, Barack Obama. Just know that you're never going to get to my level of ancient. Well, you probably will. You're a politician with fantastic security people and you're in good shape.  But by the time you get there, I'll be even older. Or dead.

Booya!