I think the whole world is well aware that the United States is in the middle of a rather bombastic to campaign to elect its next president, but some of you may be unaware that Canada is also in the middle of a federal election campaign.
While Canadian politics lack some of the drama found in the U.S., I have observed one particular phenomenon with great interest, sadness and regret: former bloggers are dropping out of the race like flies.
Apparently it really IS true that what you post on your blog today can prevent you from becoming Prime Minister tomorrow.
This is bad news folks, very bad news.
This means that in the event that my quest for complete cultural domination necessitates a run for political office, I could be royally screwed. Once the press and my political opponents start perusing my archives, the true picture of DMD is going to emerge and it's not going to be pretty.
I mean, right off the hop, the media will trumpet the fact that I have already declared myself unsuitable for political office.
And then it's gonna go downhill from there.
First the pundits will look into my take on social issues.
The right wing will dismiss me as a sniveling Liberal, admitting as I have to, plotting a revolution against the establishment and questioning authority at every turn.
The left wing is going to peg me as a raging fascist who would force kids to cut their damn hair and legislate against parents trying too hard to be hip. Also? I have no compassion for America's sweetheart mom and therefore no heart.
Once they start digging up the dirt in my personal life, I'm going to be all but finished. Where do I start?
I have proudly admitted that I am a big, fat liar who lusts after men - boys, really - young enough to be my son. Also, I am addicted to tabloid sleaze and continually enjoy an inner dialogue about how everyone I encounter is stupid and ugly.
I'll be lucky someone doesn't spirit Graham away after news of my parenting skills - or lack thereof - are made public. Let's see: I hit my child and exploit him for money. I park him in front of the television, expose him to my grotesque nakedness and harbour deep-seated fears that I might harm him. I didn't even bother to take him out for Halloween last year for Gawd's sake!
The idea that I may have inadvertently torpedoed my political career is really upsetting. I mean, for you, more than for me. Now, in all likelihood, the free world will never know rule under Don Mills Diva.
And that's a shame, it really is.
And you know what?
