Possible write-in candidates are scarier than Trumpkins

1) Bo, The Obama’s Dog

While I was weeping gently over Bo’s Wikipedia page at 2 a.m. this Saturday night, I discovered all I needed to know to convince me of his presidential prowess. Apparently he’s trained to sit, shake, lie down, roll over, wait and last but not least, get off. I really appreciate this last one because it means Bo is unabashed about his sexual proclivities; if he wants to get off, he’ll get off, damn it, and he doesn’t care who knows. When I scrolled down past “Selec­tion of the Dog” on Bo’s Wiki, I found a photo of him wearing a colorful lei. By this point, my keyboard was short-circuiting from my tears of joy, so I had to stop–but not before I found out that one of his litter-mates was named “Cappy.” It is truly our responsibility as Vassar students to vote Bo into office so Prez Hill’s name can live on.

2) “Unbreakable Kimmie Schmidt”

This Netflix-exclusive lady is basically a cooler version of Trump: both spent the ma­jority of their time on Earth below-ground as mole people; both have been under the control of a hideous cult led by an insane preacher; and both have their lives written solely by Tina Fey. The only difference is that Kimmie is more stylish and would, if elected, feature occasional cameo appearances by Vassar alum Lisa Kud­row.

3) Weird Dude From My High School Named Maurice

We were close in senior year, but he was extremely weird. His parents were farmers in Saskatchewan, and he was passionate about ag­riculture and would always lecture me on the evils of soy. Now he lives in Switzerland and works on a farm. He has almost no leadership qualities, but I think Maurice is just such a presidential name.

4) The Spirit of My Dead Guinea Pig

Carrot was my first and possibly only love. His interests included gnawing on sticks of applewood, rubbing his scent glands along my floor and biting my friends. Clearly he was an aggressive go-getter with a myriad of leader­ship qualities. Unfortunately, his life was cut short when he contracted stomach cancer, but all it would take would be a simple run-of-the-mill seance and we could get have our first ro­dent in the Oval Office. The only issue would be the depletion of the national budget due to his penchant for alfalfa.

5) Gym Guy (Karl)

A lot of things fill me with shame on a daily basis, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt the kind of existential humiliation that came over me when Karl kicked me out of the Vassar gym for not changing my shoes. My gym wear is already embarrassing at best: until last year, I didn’t realize it was unacceptable to work out in jeans, and I still don’t own sneakers or a sports bra. I always thought being caught by Karl was like being struck by lightning or kid­napped: it’s always in the back of your head, but it would never actually happen. But when he sauntered up to me and gruffly ordered me out of the AFC, my stomach dropped to the Keds that I had neglected to change out of. Any man who can make me feel like that is a man with the power to lead a country.

6) UpC Guy (Patrick)

I’m reluctant to give Patrick any ideas, since living without UpC for a month this semester was enough to break me, but I would be remiss not to mention him. Considering the heinous ways most of us on this campus would be will­ing to debase ourselves for smoothies, just think what Patrick could get us to do as Head of State. In fact, as long as he sank the entire bud­get into giving out free milkshakes and Nilda’s, I think he could literally do anything without anyone caring. In fact, I think he may already have a hypnotic hold on me: lately I’ve been blacking out for hours on end and coming to in the Old Bookstore with blood on my hands and a taste of pineapple on my lips.

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