They're Clamoring for Me

I've barely stuck my toe in the pond and everyone is already begging for me to swim laps around the other jokers. The polls show me already ahead of Miss Romney and dead even with McNuts. Plus I'm already eating into McNuts' base. Which means it's just a matter of time before I eat Limpiani for breakfast.

So clearly the question isn't if I should run over to the Ames straw poll and come in at the last minute to tromp Miss Romney. I already have tromped her. And she looks even worse as she plans to stay put in Ames, even though McNuts and Limpiani have pulled out.

See? George Will can ask all he wants if I am "a mind undisciplined by steady engagement with complexities" -- if he didn't learn from Reagan and Dubya that the people just don't care about that, then it's clearly lost on him why I'm already at the front of the pack without even officially declaring. This guy really gets it: "Lights, Camera, Ass-Kicking Time." That's what the people want, George. Now pull that baseball bat out of your ass and come aboard the Ready Freddy Express.