By Al Gore

So the chatty Cathys on the Internet are poo-pooing my endorsement of Obama. Listen up, Blogosphere, I made you and I can destroy you! How'd ya like it if I stuck my carbon footprint up your ass?

Listen, people, this was a tough decision. I had to ask, “Who’s better for the environment?” Obama, with his native roots, knows how to worship nature like a good pagan. But I hear that Hillary’s pant suits are soy-based and tailored to spontaneously bio-degrade with a teaspoon of crocodile tears.

Furthermore, I was impressed with Obama’s proposal to gather the world’s grandmothers and knit a net of hope around the polar ice cap. However, Hillary’s response gave me pause. She pointed out that rising temperatures would burn right through hope, and after eight years in the White House, she knows all about smoking poles (and cracking down on Hummers).

In the end, I was torn between Obama’s ghetto groove and Hillary’s ghetto booty. So, I went with Obama in order to acquire a cabinet position in line with my qualifications and goals: Secretary of Bringing in Da Funk.

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