I JUST HAD THE CRAZIEST GROHL DREAM!  grohl and i were having a long therapy sesh talking about some of my usual lady troubles when barack obama showed up.  grohl didnt recognize obama (we've been waaay too busy palling around to really follow politics lately) but i figured out who he was pretty quickly.  anyway obama told us that the earth is in trouble!  i grabbed my best adventure-scarf and we leaped into action.  the president explained that he was tired of being president and wanted to step down.  but if he did, a bunch of uncool things would happen!  biden would take over, and no one wants that since biden kinda sucks.

so his only recourse was to send grohl back in time, to the year 2008! grohl would run for president and win, thus allowing obama to get some rest and preventing biden from taking office. i thought i might have been a better choice for prez but grohl explained that being the vice president and just sitting around drunk all day is way better than taking the lead role. hes such a smart dude!

we won the election, of course. mccain is basically a mummy and sarah palin doesn't know the meaning of being 'under pressure,' if you catch my drift! hahaha! speaking of which, instead of swearing in president grohl on a lame old bible i totally ROCKED him in by breaking out a bit of the karaoke Queen (feat. david bowie) during the inauguration. the supreme court justices didnt approve but whatever duders, they're way old.

we moved the white house to the B-THEZ, replaced the oval office desk with a drum kit, and changed press conferences to free-form drunken singalongs- i do it my way, PUN TOTALLY INTENDED.

when i finally woke up i felt a soul-crushing sadness on the realization that it had all been a dream. or was it? as i stood up something fell out of my pocket: a ballot, worn out from too much time spent as a coaster under a cold brewski and too many trips through the washing machine. the front held two boxes: an empty one next to McCain/Palin, and a punched hole next to Grohl/Yours Truly.

time finally caught up with it once it was exposed to the harsh conditions outside my pocket, though. when i tried showing it to a hot bethesda twenty-something that night i found that nothing remained in my pocket but dust. we'll meet again, dear president grohl, though i know not how or when.