Recently I've been overwhelmed by the amount of political commentary aimed in my direction.Four or five emails a day fill my box, links to Newsweek or Fox News or some appeal to view Matt Damon's home video on YouTube. Text messages beg to know if I love Obama, hate Palin, am attracted to the John McCain of yesteryear, or whether or not you can really put lipstick on a pig.
Dear readers, I must say, the result of all this political pressure is making me feel terribly self-important. In fact, I feel that there is so much riding on my opinion that I am swiftly considering adopting five or six African children and dedicating my life to the UN.
That said, I feel that I should clarify why my vote should not trouble your sensitive political ideals.
Self-importance, though a trademark of mine, should be kept slightly lower than the national terrorist threat level. And if you wouldn't walk into an airport at red, you wouldn't want to hang around me at orange.
Decisions aren't my strong point, people. Those who know me well know I can barely decide whether I'm dating or single, blonde or brunette. I sway between law school and med school, mozzarella and goat cheese, and am too busy wondering whether to order from Nordstrom or Bloomingdale's to decide the best policy for foreign wars.
I live in Utah. The effect of my vote on the future of this nation is about the same as the effect of sex education on rottweilers.
I am ill-equipped to be a political spokesperson. While keeping up on current events (in the form of celebrity gossip and fashion trends), I get the bulk of my political information from Steven Colbert and Perez Hilton.
So, if you must continue to send me your political recommendations, I merely say: be forewarned that those appeals could be better aimed at someone a little more caring, slightly more intelligent, and a great deal more important.
Contact me directly for P. Diddy's phone number.
