A Vote for Mellzah is a Vote for Awesome

We’re getting down to the wire, and the time has come for me to reiterate what an awesome benevolent dictator I’d be, and renumerate why you should mark your ballots for me tomorrow, instead of forcing me to seize power, which mayn’t make me feel so benevolent at first. Vote for me, and I will rule you gently with my iron fist!

Life will be sweet under a Mellzah Dildarian dictatorship, no doubt.

First and foremost, I’ve got the chutzpah, gumption, and hard-hitting awesomeness it takes to lead. I don’t kill wolves with guns from helicopters–I kill simply with a hard stare. Eventually, I will be able to kill with a glance. Who can keep the country safe better than me, armed with a pair of binoculars or perhaps a telescope?

Second, I understand how important it is for a leader to take a strong stance on facial hair. My voting record clearly indicates that I have been a long-time supporter of the mustache. I cut an impressive figure. If you were to compare me to a type of tree, I would undoubtedly be an oak, or maybe a horse chestnut. I am all teeth and curls with wild, untamed hair, but with a pleasant, open face, and my mustache is fantastic and glossy, and the ends of it are twisted with expensive-looking ribbons. Living at sea tends to leave one with ratty, matted hair, but I keep mine silky and in good condition, and though nobody knows my secret, they all respect me for it. They also respect me because it’s said I’m wedded to the sea. A lot of pirates claim they are wedded to the sea, but usually this is an excuse because they couldn’t get a girlfriend or they were gay pirates, but in my case, no one doubts that I’m wedded to the sea for a minute. My great luxuriant mustache has inspired at least one book of epic poetry, and I know this because I dictated it one night whilst on an adventure when it was raining too hard to really do much else. (a)

But what sort of policies will I dictate, you ask? Why, seeing as I am ever so benevolent, I shall tell you.

As benevolent dictator, I fully intend to:

*Reinstate naptime. After a good-sized lunch, you’re not feeling at all productive and, in fact, may be feeling quite snoozy. Under a Dildarian regime, you would be free to take a nap if needed, thus actually boosting your afternoon productivity.

*Abortions for some! No abortions for others! Miniature American flags for all, with my face pasted right in the middle as a daily reminder to ‘Be Awesome to one another’!

*Reinstate corporal punishment in schools. If bullies got the shit kicked out of them regularly, and knew their teachers were packing stun guns, they’d think twice about driving angry loner children to the point of hit lists.

*Minor drug offenders will be set free. Violent offenders, however, will all be shipped to Utah for a ‘last man standing’ gladiatorial match. Weapons will be dropped inside at random–a sock full of pennies, a sharpened broom handle, and giant sporks. This will be televised on pay-per-view, and proceeds will go back to funding your Mellzah-led utopia.

*Opposing politicians? Sorry guys. You’re all going to be shot. Goes for the House and the Senate, too. You’re useless, and the money we were paying you is better spent elsewhere. Except Russ Feingold. You’re cool, you can stay. Sort of comes in the package with the whole ‘dictator’ thing. There is only ONE dick allowed in the mashed potatoes and that dick is mine.

*The war? Done. Fuck that shizz in the EYE. The Sunnis and the Shiites want to blow each other to kingdom come? Have a blast, guys. Here, have a giant spork.

*Paris Ho-lton, Lindsay Ho-han, and Slutney Spears (and potentially more) will be shot on a rocket to Mars. For science. Riiiight.

*True freedom of religion (and non-religion!) and absolute separation of church and state. You can worship any invisible man/blue man/ blue man group you want, but don’t you dare tell anyone else what they should and should not be doing or prepare to be slapped on the next rocket to Mars. Or to battle Xenu. Whatever. Anyone who knocks on my door offering to ‘help’ me while I’m dressed in the dictatorial bathrobe can expect to be shot immediately.

*Gay marriage will immediately be legalized nationwide. Marriage is two people who have made a commitment to one another, conferring all rights and privileges on their union. Anything less is discriminatory. Religious types who are offended or threatened by gay marriage may choose to have a different, religious-based ceremony, but this religious ceremony will not be recognized by the Dildarian state, nor will it confer any special rights or privileges under the law.

*Illegal immigrants will be granted amnesty. Have YOU ever picked blueberries? Awful, awful work. But I’d still like blueberries on my cereal, so, y’know, amnesty.

*Cuba? Sanctions lifted, y’all. Quality cigars should be plentiful and cheap.

*Drunk drivers will have to walk home naked from the point where they are pulled over. Second time, with a matchstick squeezed in between their butt cheeks. Third time? You’re GOIN’ TO UTAH, BABY!

*My face will grace your money, making it much more attractive and further demonstrating my strong commitment to facial hair.

But how will a Mellzah dictatorship work, you ask? I understand; you’re confused. You’re used to living under a democracy with three branches of government, with a lot of levels and bloat and useless people mucking up the works like Tim Eyman. Under my benevolent dictatorship, the whole process will be more streamlined. Unfortunately, though I may seem god-like in stature to some, I cannot be everywhere, so I have a number of second-in-commands, each with a specific area of expertise, all assigned to a particular region. While you may not be able to interface with me directly, my number twos will be like unto the voice of god when they are in the field as my representative. Though it may seem backwards to have several number twos, this system is designed to protect not only me, but you, from the confusion and terror that inevitably follows the usurping of an awesomeness such as mine by a lesser-known person. In the event of my untimely passing while reigning as benevolent dictator, my second-in-commands will have to battle one another to the death, insuring that only the strongest one reigns, and secondly, that they cannot be in collusion with one another against me without forfeiting their lives.

Those who have complaints may bring it up with their regional dictator, who will in turn bring it up with me, and I promise to give the issue my fair and balanced consideration, which is more than you get now unless you happen to have a boatload of money.

I thank you for your time and consideration. Regime change begins at home: VOTE MELLZAH DILDARIAN FOR BENEVOLENT DICTATOR.

(a)Apologies to Gideon Defoe.

Wisconsin Day Three: Tomfoolery and Boozehardiness

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After House on the Rock, Nicki and I went to New Glarus, tiny Wisconsin Swiss town, home of the Glarner Stube and a supposedly awesome brewery that was closed by the time we got there, in line with my family’s tradition of being a day late and a dollar short for everything, particularly themed towns. I’d originally intended on visiting Dr. Evermore’s Forevertron on the same day as The House on the Rock, but Roadside America lied to me when it indicated that Baraboo was anywhere near Spring Green, which I should’ve cottoned onto when they said that after visiting the Forevertron, it was only a short jaunt to Wisconsin Dells for their torture exhibit. Wisconsin Dells!? That’s FAR away from Spring Green! However, Nicki told me there was something I needed to see in New Glarus, and that I would be suitably impressed.

After some delicious Swiss cheese fondue with wine, garlic, and kirsch, I decided that I should probably order the Schublig, which was billed as a mild spiced beef sausage made by Ruef’s Meat Market, and sure to please a true sausage lover. Who could possibly love sausage in their face hole more than me? I was NOT prepared for the scale of the Glarner Stube’s sausage, however. Laid out onto a plate and brought into the light, it looked almost obscene. The green beans seem like almost an afterthought compared to the sheer amount of sausage majesty* set in front of me. 2980926017_30ab9617e0

I couldn’t even make a sizeable dent in the sausage–it was no meal, it was a task! A challenge! A trial! The waitress seemed appalled that I asked for a box after about two bites, but I wasn’t there to impress her, I was there for something else. Are you ready to find out what that something else was? That something else happened to be none other than the midwest’s largest urinal. 344_33501128939_340_n I was a little disappointed that the Glarner Stube doesn’t really promote that they have the midwest’s largest urinal, nor is it in a sizeable room with tasteful lighting. Rather, it’s crammed into a one-man bathroom, where you can hardly appreciate its massive scale. That still didn’t stop me from opening the men’s room door to snap a photo, giggling so hard at the absurdity that I could hardly hold the camera up, whilst the people at the bar had a good laugh at the girl busting up while taking a picture of a urinal with no fewer than four pink cakes inside. …I suppose when you’ve got a big sausage, you need a big urinal. Yes/no? *’Sausage Majesty’ would be an awesome band name.