Hey y'all! Late last nite, I saw somefin interestin - nominayshuns are bein eggcepted for da next Blogville Mayor. And dis got me thinkin, maybe I should run. Da peeps round here has been watchin da eleckshun news a lot and I figgered I could definitely win since I's been learnin all da pawlitical tricks.
I's got da whole #GirlPower thing going on like Hillary.
I's got da crazy white hair like Bernie.
I went to da Hahvahd School of Law and Barkins like Teddy.
I got da big ears like Marco.
And I's rich like da Donald. I mean, has ya seen how many toys I gots? And all my dresses. Yeah, I's really really rich. Maybe not gold-plated toilet level, but I does have a pink princess crate. And I know how to use Twitter. And I's not afraid of a fight. Punchin some protestors, or gettin my campaign manager to (I are lookin at you momma, I know ya has punched a bitch for me before) ain't gonna be no problem.
So then I started thinkin bout my platform. And nope, I ain't talkin bout heels. Furst, I think I need to MAKE BLOGVILLE GRATE AGAIN.
I mean, I think we can all agree dat we like cheeze. And if da hoomans had to grate da cheeze, think of how much more would be likely to hit da ground. And we all know dat we get ground cheeze, well, unless your momma has kwik refleckses and low cleanliness standards (yeah, I is lookin at you momma!)
I also think we needs to build a wall to keep our mommas and daddies off of da big book of faces. Some of them go over there and think dey should stop bein our secremataries. So we is gonna build a great big beeyootifull wall, and da peeps are gonna luv it. And not only are dey gonna luv it, dey are gonna PAY for it. And not outta da treat budget either. And if dey complain, BOOM! dat wall are gettin 87 feet higher.
And I want to take dis time to address some roomers bout me and cats. Us terrierists ain't known for bein cat friendly, but I has had many cats work for me, and I can tell you, they LUV me.
See, I are pretty shure I are gonna win da cat vote. Dat's what all da Poles are sayin, and I's never known Poles to lie. Get conquered by Nazis and Rushins, yeah, but not lie.
Wait momma, what? In order to run we are sposed to help organize a Blogville Summer Olympics? I shoulda based my cam-pain on 2012's Republican guy, not dis years???
Oh well, I guess I'll just have to settle for bein really really rich and leave da pawlitical stuff to some udder pup. Maybe one wif magical underwears. I mean, I don't wanna have to start wearin pantsuits instead of pretty dresses. And momma are warning me dat bein my Chief of Staff might cut into dress-makin time, and NOPE, dat one are not happenin. So I'll just be Princess Whitley, bein a princess sounds more fun dan bein a mayor anyways. Da clothes has got to be better.