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.

So Obama can have his high-falutin' donors--I'll take the decent folks who enjoy Kid Rock and bustin' up biker bars with pool cues. And the bitchin' biker babes of America, with their big hips that make Cindy look like she went to liposuction and forgot to say "When". Full confession, that joke was stolen from Pig Pen.