After all, the President needs to get off the fence on the national roboticized lawn-mowing initiative you and your fellow male Cul-de-Sac’ers have proposed.

And I think you could gather a tremendous amount of bipartisan support behind the effort to legalize leaving the toilet seat up.

But not all your ideas have wings. Good luck finding a candidate to adopt your plan to raise all male babies in concentration camps where they are fed a strict steriod only diet, required to do 4000 situps every day starting from conception, and are only taught one language, Rambonics (the unique, almost human dialect spoken by Sylvester Stallone in the Rambo trilogy).

And Captive Lion, yes, I do ask not what I can do for my country, but what my country can do for me.

Of course, as an United States citizen, I would hope that the debate wouldn’t veer off course as they usually do and, instead, it would zero in and focus clearly on the issue at hand which is, undeniably, tinkering around in someone’s a-hole.

p.s. Asking the Centaur to consider anyone but himself when thinking of matters of national public policy is like walking by those kiosks in the middle of the mall and thinking, “Wow, I really need that brittle foam airplane that can do a loop when I throw it” and then you buy it and take it home without realizing it needs 50 foot high ceilings to even successfully complete the loop-de-loop but you decide to throw it anyway (and hard) because you just spent 20 bucks on the damn thing, so you throw it and what do you know, it breaks on the first toss. This metaphor brought to you by the phrase Read Between the Lines.