Dear Friend, And when I say friend, I mean it in the normal way, not someone Ive been sleeping with for thirteen years. Unless, of course, I have been sleeping with you for thirteen years. In that case, I do mean it that way. It is with a heavy heart that I have decided to end my inspirational quest for the White House. After much reassessing and reconsidering, I have decided to spend more time being screamed at by my wife. And by more time, I mean twenty-four hours a day, stopping only for bathroom breaks. But before I go, let me share with you my final thoughts on my campaign. After months of crisscrossing this great land of ours and participating in over three hundred televised debates, I am being disqualified because of an extramarital affair. And that raises the following question: Are you fucking kidding me? I mean, lets get real. I never heard of Libya. I didnt know whether that CNN dudes name was Wolf or Blitz. And my only training for running the No. 1 nation in the world was running its No. 8 pizza chain. Yet none of that, I repeat, none of that disqualified me. In fact, I was the front-fucking-runner, as long as I kept my 9-9-9 in my pants. (I have no idea what I meant by thatI just like saying 9-9-9.) But heres the part that really kills me. Youre kicking me to the curb because I was messing around, and instead youre going with Newt Gingrich? I repeat: Are you fucking kidding me? Oh, I know what youre saying: you love Newt because hes an intellectual. Well, Newt Gingrich is the intellectual of the Republican field the way Moe was the intellectual of the Stooges. And that leads me to my final point: you disgust me, America. Right now if I had my way, Id up and move to another country. I really, truly would. Only I dont know where any of them are, and my wife wont let me leave the house. Goodbye forever, Herman 