It is with a humble heart, a wet snout, and clogged arteries that I accept the nomination for President of the United States of America.
This isn't the first time I've run for our great nation's most prestigious position. The year was 1980. Gasoline was scarce, Ayatollah Khomeini was giving us all severe indigestion, and a little known lady named Madonna Louise Ciccone had recently moved to New York City with nothing but a bandana and a dream. The presidential nominees -- the Country Bumpkin and the D-List Movie Star -- offered little clarity in this topsy-turvy world. So I decided to throw my feather boa into the ring. I added glitz and glamour to the race. I gave the people a real choice. I was the Other White Meat.
Sadly, that campaign was unsuccessful. I blame my running mate selection. Gonzo is certainly brilliant, but the country just wasn't ready for a Jewish vice-president. Then again, it could have been my campaign slogan, "Vote For Miss Piggy -- She'll Give You Gas!!!" Maybe it was a combination of both. I don't live in the past. I am the pig of the future.
This time around, though, I can't say that you don't have some valid, reasonable choices for President. It's a revolutionary time in American history. There's a female candidate. There's an African-American candidate. There's an elderly candidate. It's just a shame that they aren't all the same candidate. Ruby Dee should have run. This could have been her year.
But who's out there representing those who don't have a voice? Who's representing those who cannot be understood? Who's representing those who make up a delicious deli platter?
Who's representing the farm animals?
Oh sure, the other candidates throw us a bone here or there. Animal cruelty is usually wedged in with other loser issues, like the environment, or caviar smuggling. But then it's lunchtime, and we're right back where we started. On a plate, with a cole slaw garnish.
Not anymore. Miss Piggy is here to represent the forgotten minority. We won't be trod upon any longer. We won't go quietly into that good night. I speak your language. I feel your pain.
And for those of you nay-sayers -- and I'm not just talking to you, Mr. Ed -- who believe that a pig could never win the White House, I say, if this country can elect a jackass, it can elect a pig!
So join me, as I criss-cross this nation of ours, dropping fabulousness whereever I go. Thank you, and remember -- pork is murder.
