I Bet Presidential Speechwriters Abbreviate 'God Bless America' to 'GBA' in Early Drafts

So I got you guys a new President. Please, don't thank me. But you're welcome. Try to give him some time to get acclimated to our ways of governance. If he gets a little rambunctious early on, just know his heart's in the right place. It's our collective mission to guide him procedurally - this is his first time presiding over a sovereign nation - that I know of.

Also, keep your phones charged and on your person. BHO is notorious for calling upon the everyday citizen to serve his common man for the greater good of society at large (or as I interpret it, he's got a case of the you-do-its). It's too early to know exactly how this may manifest itself. I picture a text coming through requesting that you, Gary Kellerman of Allentown, PA, take your neighbor's trash out as she's experiencing an onset of flu symptoms. Or you, Regina Plaus of North Bridge, MI, would you mind shooting this Talibani fellow in a manner that prohibits him from firing that ground-to-air missile at our Boeing CH-47 Chinook utility chopper? It hates missiles.

Regardless of the method of contact and nature of request, do your best to accommodate. America's really busy right now, and excuses like "I just got Super Smash Bros. for Wii" won't exactly resonate with our leaders. Of course if you have a two-player set-up and your screen size exceeds 42", drop a line to johnatronheartswii@prodigy.net with your poor reasoning for why you think that'd be acceptable and turn-by-turn directions to your house.

Public service is the cornerstone of a functioning complex society. Today you may have two operational hands and really enjoy the Azure hue of your '08 Saab 9-3 Convertible. But if on a whim you self-impose a deadline of Friday to go Ivory, and your hands are otherwise engaged in a Guinness record-seeking rocks-paper-scissors-off, it's your fellow citizen whose assistance you'll need. And let's face it, you'd do the same for them, but mostly because you're recklessly enamored with the smell of urethane basecoat.

Will the mere fact that an advocate of voluntarily service is in the highest public office set the land ablaze with a renewed spirit of altruism? Of course not - this isn't an ill-conceived Happy Madison production. But what if it did? What if we felt anew the kinship to our common man, and the inherent duty we'll all charged with to care for one another - a duty not enforced by any institution, but rather our own sense of righteousness?

[at this point in the movie, a motorized-cart-drawn, raggedly-hewn Steve Buscemi would roll across the screen babbling incoherently about his 'Nam flashbacks and endorsing the foolish scheme that will enable the crude but good-hearted protagonist to overcome some gimmicky injustice and win back the deed to the home of the love interest. 'S grandmother. 'S grandmother. Tell me again - how hasn't Sandler won an Oscar®?]