With everyone and his brother, sister, or dog, lining up to run for President of the United States—and I’m not saying who the dog is—it seems appropriate to give a list of reasons why running for POTUS could be masochistic. Not in the sexual way, of course, although that does happen:

·         Ten: Your banker thinks it’s a really bad idea. You’ve earned enough to pay your bills but are far-from having the amount of money it would take to pay-off all those with evidence that might show you in a bad-light.

·         Nine: Your mother-in-law would kill you, first. Her son was born male and is, by no one’s estimation, effeminate enough to qualify as a First lady.

·         Eight: Your track record with the local police department might not appear so-appealing when printed, in bold script, across the headline of a newspaper.

·         Seven: Unlike Scott Brown, your pickup truck’s bed has holes the size of the Grand Canyon in it and would make for a daring platform, from which, to give a speech.

·         Six: The only people that really recognize your name are your neighbor—she hates you—your husband, and a police officer named Smoot.

·         Five: Your daughters have been married, so-often, that a white wedding in the White House would be out of the question.

·         Four: Your husband has sold drugs but he’s not a pharmacist and the doctor that prescribed them, only dropped the charges after he promised not to repeat the incident.

·         Three: There was the minor dispute over whether or not you mooned the mailman.

·         Two: Neither the Republican nor the Democratic Parties has you listed as a member, and the Brotherhood of Satan refused to renew your membership after you accidentally burned down their secret meeting hall.

·         And, the number One: Your driver’s license was issued in Texas.

If you didn’t think Texans had a sense of humor, you’ve never visited the state. The words, “taint, cain’t, never did, redneck, ya’ll, and c’here” are all listed in the official Texas Dictionary. They are accepted references used to identify a state of existence, a chore we’re unwilling to perform, something we haven’t experienced, a person that you can rely upon, anyone not from Texas, and the spot where you are standing.  Any questions? And yes, road-kill is the official state food. It’s right there at the top of list with Tacos, pinto beans, and French fries. In Texas, methane gas is not consider a hazard, just a way of life.

We do jog with our guns, because a rattlesnake is never in the mood to “talk about it.” And it’s always “hotter-in a side of beef roasting over a fire.” Global warming and water-boarding are games we play, but we take our politikin serious, down c’here.