It Doesn’t Cost Much to Adore Me

I’ve always envisioned coup leader as my ultimate career goal. All the aptitude tests said I’d be good at it. They also coincidentally said I’d be good at being an engineer, but since I’m horrifically stupid at math I think they meant the person who drives the train.

But if I got to take over a country, I’d be so, so good at it. I wouldn’t start out with killing people or making them change their religions and there would be no book burnings except of children’s books that don’t rhyme. I love me a good rhyming picture book.

Obviously, this has not come to pass. But if I ever do get the chance to take over something, even if it’s just a corporation or something in a major stakeholder buyout thing, I’m prepared with my legions of worshipful followers. In the form of one undersized and very stupid dog.

What my dog lacks in physical stature and mental capacity, though—and I mean she doesn’t have the mental capacity to walk into a darkened room without falling down, and falling down for her only means moving about two inches—she more than makes up for in worshipfulness. This dog literally sits outside the bathroom door and waits for me to get finished showering so she can drink the water that’s left in the bottom of the tub. THAT is adoration, people.

I’ve given this a lot of thought and I realize there were a number of famous czars and dictators and emperors who had this kind of effect on people, but those leaders also had to have royal tasters to keep them from being poisoned. How awesome could they have been? Doesn’t every willing-to-die-for-you-subject get negated by every assassination attempt?

I mean, sure, so there’s a servant somewhere who drinks your bath water to prove his loyalty. So what? Good grief, he’s got to be crazy! Your claim to fame is that you surrounded yourself with people who are just psychotic enough to lick your feet, and you BRAGGED about it? Desperate for friends much, are we?

Nope, I’ll take a standoffish cat any day, and I hate cats. But at least you know where you stand with them. They’re not going to stretch their lean bodies out over a mud puddle for you, then run inside and rip holes in the crotch of all your underwear with their claws. They’re going to let you know that you are only around to work the can opener for them. Hmmm. Maybe you could soften them up by drinking their bath water.

I wear a size 11. You could die from alcohol poisoning if you tried drinking champagne out of my shoe.

I Would Be the Best Dictator EVER

I want to have a country but I can never finish a whole one.

I have reached that point in my middle-aged life where I’m looking for a new challenge, something to break up the routine. It would be great if it could be something that I would actually have to plan for really far in advance, like a marathon or being a freelance wet-nurse, because then I’d have months of preparation and training ahead of me before I could actually attempt the goal. It would definitely kill time.

I’ve already run a bunch of marathons and done a few triathlons and I can’t actually lactate anymore even if I concentrate really hard, so I’ve kind of closed the door on a lot of goal-oriented pursuits. One thing that I haven’t gotten to do is stage a rebellion and overthrow a government in order to seize power and make the minions—I mean, millions—do my bidding. There’s a really long line of people in this country who’ve already filled out the necessary forms to try that here, so I’m putting out feelers on Twitter for a foreign country that really needs a good coup.

I have pretty high standards sometimes, so my dream country would be fairly tropical with a steady tourist-based economy and lots of time spent being fanned by cabana-people who bring me drinks. I also want a country that would never see this overthrow happening, since I’m not a large person and I don’t really have enough friends and co-workers who would want to participate in my uprising. Those jerks.

I have to say I would really be great at taking over a country and making everyone do things my way, and not just because my way makes sense all the time and not just on paper. I would be really awesome to the little people and only unleash my inner crazy on politicians, criminals, and boards of directors. Of ANYTHING. Schools and hospitals would have to play a big huge game of Brewster’s Millions where they see if they can possibly spend enough by the deadline in order to get even more money, and anything that provides cool interesting things to do for children or the elderly gets an automatic green light from the treasury. We’ll have to make some cutbacks to bankroll my game of Magical Fairy Wish Machine, so all funding for Viagra is hereby cut.

When I’m elected dictator, (by which I really mean, “When I take over your country,”) road construction cronies will have a time limit to complete highway construction! Pre-packaged food products with more than eight ingredients will be outlawed! People will stop wasting precious electricity with inflatable yard art! Football season will last exactly two weeks for college teams, three weeks for pros! Big Bird will have a permanent home on Sesame Street and Glenn Beck will have to hold a monthly telethon to get to stay on the air! The masses will both fear me and adore me!

Sorry, I got a bit woozy there. The extreme power went to my head for a second, but I’m okay now. I can’t lose it like that in front of my victims—I mean, constituents—ever again if I want to stay in a leadership position for long. I wouldn’t want to look crazy and find myself overthrown.