The Fishing Candidate for President!

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H2Oz
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Joined: Tue May 12, 2015 2:21 pm

The Fishing Candidate for President!

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Finally! An American presidential candidate who speaks for the American sportfisherman! Last night, at the annual meeting of the Bloodsucking No-See-Um Coast Paddlefisherman's Club, guest speaker Smedley J. Pudwhiffle not only announced that he was throwing his hat into the ring for 2016, but laid out one of the key elements in his dynamic plan for our future. The following is the entire, unedited transcript from his groundbreaking speech:

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Ladies and gentlemen, the very FIRST thing I am going to do after I'm elected is save the American taxpayer BILLIONS of dollars that are now being spent on a so-called "problem" that is, in fact, an economic blessing staring us right in the face. I'm talking about so-called "invasive species".

If you're going to have your Global Consumer Economy and your Super-Connected One World -- and, believe me, you are GOING to have it -- then you are GOING to have invasive species. It doesn't MATTER whether some drooling imbecile commits his Annual Aquarium Dump, or whether some illegal immigrant from Rakubania so swoons with ethnic nostalgia for the Vampirefish sandwiches of his youth that he feels obliged to raise them in the canal behind his apartment. It doesn't MATTER if tankers flush in harbors, or wading soles and trailers transfer between bodies of water.

Only two things are an absolute, dead-on lock here: Any money spent on "prevention", though laudable, probably won't stop it anyway; and any kind of "organized intervention", be it by our Rube Goldbergish government or by ecogroups, is a doomed boondoggle (and most likely a Simolean Siphon that Al 'Carbon Credits' Gore himself would be proud of).

No, the ONLY thing that can determine whether ANY invasive species CAN be deliberately and specifically wiped out is whether:

(a) human beings taste it and say, "Hmmmm, not bad!"; or

(b) some guy thinks, "Say, we can turn this into _____ and make a PILE of dough!"; or

(c) both.

(And if anybody thinks "tastes bad" is an impediment, I would refer you to the ubiquitous and marvelously vague "Special Sauce", which has apparently convinced billions that ground-up kangaroo anuses are a lunchtime treat second to none.)

As for the practicality of outsourcing species-wiping to the largely-unemployed general public, I would refer you to the extremely instructive (albeit non-invasive) case of the passenger pigeon. Yeah, turns out you CAN create a lot of fun (if wholesale killing on the Treblinka scale is your cup of tea), "jobs" (well, for twenty years, anyway) AND feed the poor (hey, what's a little lead poisoning, huh?).

Face it, folks, the only thing we're lacking here is a little Don Draper.

Look, the minute that somebody can convince the hippie-veggie crowd that rock snot is so chock full of pure natural bioflavonoid goodness that it shouldn't ONLY be in every salad, it should ALSO be a major ingredient in every Seattle-based cup of bubble-injected Almostcoffee, we'll be on our way. All we have to do is STOP calling it "rock snot" and start calling it "Co-Q-Chamomine" or "Aqualettuce" or something. Let's get that hokey Crocodile Dundee wannabe over at Outback to start hawking $29.95 plates of "Flime-Grilled Rivah Jumpah", and make it a CRIME to even SAY "Asian Carp". Trust me, when Lionfish become "King-O'-The-Reef" and snakeheads are "Stir-Fried Steakfish", we're gonna NEED all those Mexican 18-wheelers just to HAUL the stuff to market.

And the JOBS! Think of the potential for mom-and-pop startups! A little welding in the shed on Sunday afternoon, and on Monday you can be PROFITABLY launching that gas-guzzling bass boat again. And you'll blast down the river with PRIDE again, everyone admiring both your entrepreneurial spirit AND that Mad Max garbagecan-lid bow armor behind that spot-welded array of 500 barbed pitchforks. Imagine America's Rust Belt swelling with national pride again as the cash rolls in. Thousands employed at the Mickey D's Grinding Centers springing up in more towns every day. Think of the glowing self-respect imbued upon a FORMERLY-on-welfare single mother, proudly towing her floating rock snot (excuse me, "Riverine Endive") collection bucket behind her as she shoos her children ahead of her up that trout stream, the little tykes giggling and splashing merrily as they wave their scraper knives and their little collection nets in the morning sun.

Imagine all the new seafood restaurants we can open without ever having to TOUCH any of the dwindling resources we USED to exploit. FORGET oysters, picture thousands of Zebra Mussel Bars, customers gaily slurping down their little on-the-halfshell treats (that are a WONDERFUL source of Omega-3's) at ten bucks a dozen. Why, we'll even have jobs for all those formerly-unskilled hardened felons that our prisons are spewing out! We can GIVE them shanks, pay them five bucks and a pack of Kools a day and tell them, "Start shuckin'!"

MARKETING, folks! Good old American Horse Manure! THAT's what's gonna take care of those "invasive species". I say BRING ON that Rakubanian Vampirefish. We'll roll those suckers up, douse 'em with mustard, and make the American dream of a fifty-cent ballpark hotdog a REALITY again!

But I NEED YOUR VOTE to make this happen -- and a lot of other votes, too. I know you've been burned by the empty promises of the Republicans and the Democrats alike. And that's why I've chosen a campaign slogan that carries my personal guarantee:

Pudwhiffle 2016: Change That Will Blow Your Frigging Mind!

Thank you and good night!

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Campaign contributions of small bills in plain envelopes, hand-tied saltwater poppers, decent cigars, and cases of any brand of beer that isn't swilled by trilby-wearing millenial douchecanoes may be sent to:

Smedley J. Pudwhiffle Campaign Headquarters
c/o Capt. Biff Boffko's Flying SOT Circus & Billyclub Repair Center
2046 Tireknocker Terrace, Dumb Melon, FL 34434
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