Josh Justice Announces his Run for President, A Nation Swoons

And then, suddenly and without warning, I was 24 years old, goals leaping into vision and glimmering with clarity, youthful bad habits shed for the prim and proper fashion of responsible adulthood, life on the straight and narrow, an upper management position practically looking for me, dental benefits now certainly within reach, the thrill of being a responsible, tax-paying citizen finally guiding my way.

That's right - no more daydreaming, loitering on the Internet or drunken capers for this former layabout. No more drinking at 5 pm and watching marathons of Walker, Texas Ranger or The Two Coreys until I nod off with potato chip debris in my beard, chest and lap. Lazy, directionless, aimlessly adrift, motivationally-atrophied life no more!

Nothing but a serious effort from now on, a grown man marching boldly toward a goal. Vices and distractions be damned!

Confidence found! Inspiration discovered crawling with life beneath the upturned rock of sloth!

A winning attitude radiated from my newly purchased business-casual outfit!

Lust finally redirected toward the true satisfaction of overachieving!


Hell, maybe I'll start going to church again, donating part of my money from the no-doubt-millions I'll be diving into like Scrooge McDuck, to Jesus. Although I've heard he'd just turn around and donate it to the Republican party.

But wait! I'll be joining the Republican party! Yeah, now that I'm gonna be a big time businessman with stock options and outsourced, third-world labor at my disposal, I've gotta go with the Grand Ol' Party! These shoulders o' mine are gonna be rubbing with shoulders of CEOs, VIPs and other acronymed individuals.

Yep, I woke up today and BAM!, suddenly I didn't want to go to the bar anymore. Oh no, heavens no. I wanted to jump in the car and speed on over to a resume specialist so I can maximize the effectiveness of my carefully orchestrated diction to explain my previous jobs' responsibilities. See? I'm already getting better at verbiage! Boy, adulthood: this is gonna be a piece of cake.

Next thing you know, I'll be living in the suburbs, shopping for turtlenecks at the mall, forwarding office jokes to coworkers and buying an SUV with television screens that fluidly descend from overhead compartments.

Won't you join me, kids? I can already tell it's gonna be a veritable feast, with heaping helpings of self-control, stability and seriousness. The three scrumptious S's. Oh, and sprinkle a dash of commitment in there somewhere for some spicy flavor. MMMmmm, now that's what we call the tasty stew of adult life. Yum!

Or perhaps a metaphor more accurate than some goulash would be a white-knuckled thrill ride through the sexy, debaucherous underworld of documents, deadlines and dependability. The three devilish D's. And we could add nitro tanks to add another D - danger!

Man, who knew adulthood could be so fucking awesome?!?


But, there may be a dark lining to these beautiful, cumulonimbus clouds of excitement and opportunity. It's true, my biggest fear is that I will no longer be generously catered to by marketing and advertising teams keen on reaching the young consumer demographic. Let's face it - I'm getting older, and without lifestyle ads that help me to purchase items that reenforce a well-groomed image of myself, how will I know what to buy?

Boy, adulthood may be more challenging than I thought.

Oh well, I'm sure that if I bury myself in my work and then bury myself in the electronics purchases I make as a result of my solid income, I'll be fine. Corporate world, I am ready, willing and able to bend over for your cycle of consumption, I offer up a backside to your train of stockholders. It's true...

A willing cog in the churning guts of some corporate machination, I am ready to be mangled into adulthood.





I think this might be my generic cover letter from now on. What do you think?