It’s when the campaigning stops that the identity crises start. Mitt Romney has no idea who he is right now.
How’s he to occupy his time after spending the last five years doing little more than running for president? What reason does he have anymore for waking up in the morning? I feel for you, Mitt, so I came up with a list of some post-election activities. I hope they keep you busy and away from politics because I think we can all agree: You’ve had just about enough.
1. Practice self-deportation. Okay, it’s possible if you just try hard enough. It takes willpower and mental discipline. If you just sit and concentrate, you can train your mind to literally deport yourself anywhere you want to go. Switzerland to check up on the tax shelters? Ta-da! Cayman islands? Land ho!
2. Paul Ryan’s personal cheerleader. I hear it’s a paid position, and you’re already off to a good start by remarking on his “commitment to principle” in your concession speech. I think I have a very different conception of “principle” than you, Mitt. But it doesn’t matter — Paul needs someone to cheer him on when he’s running all his marathons. All in under half an hour, of course.
3. Smiling classes. This is a must. When you smile, it makes me want to cry. Just look at your face during the debates. Everyone already thinks you’re a phony, Mitt. You’re really not helping the cause with that awful grin.
4. Go on an apology tour! I know, I know, your book made it perfectly clear: “No Apology: The Case for American Greatness.” But really, no apology? None at all? Not to the poor saps who leech off government programs? Not to Lilly Ledbetter herself, to whom you wouldn’t have granted equal pay? Not to the 63-year-old gay veteran whom you dismissed during a New Hampshire campaign stop? Fine, don’t apologize.
5. Collaging. We all know you’re an expert with binders, but the really hip thing is to deck those bad boys out with some images. Considering women for cabinet positions? Snap a pic and papier-mâché it ALL OVER the pages. Got a thing for Big Bird? You just know he wants to be cut out of a magazine and pasted into that Trapper Keeper of yours.
6. Speaking of Big Bird, how about a guest appearance on Sesame Street? Cookie Monster thinks he’s entitled to cookies! And to health care and housing! He is the 47 percent. You need to teach him not to be a victim. Educate that negligent slob.
7. Write out “I must not tell lies” 100 times, Dolores Umbridge-style. That’ll teach you not to say the Dark Lord is back, errr … not to flip-flop.
8. Learn how to love man’s best friend by adopting a few pooches from the pound. This will be your penance for strapping Seamus to the roof of your Chevy for 12 hours. 12 whole hours. This hasn’t been explained in a satisfactory way, and it needs to be. PETA, are you there? It’s me, Seamus.
9. Take up carpentry. We know you built your business, Mitt, but how about trying your hand at a table or a bookshelf?
10. Have another child. There aren’t enough Romneys roaming this planet. Here’s hoping Sasha vanquishes Mitt II in 2048.