If you look at it, I mean really look, it's

If you look at it, I mean really look, it's obvious that it was photoshopped. That may be my head, but those aren't my hands and I've never

worn a Canadian tuxedo. I demand to know who did this! I've never even been to Amsterdam, and I've definitely never patronized that sort of establishment. Gentlemen, I

stand before you as a new man. I am a clone of my former self. Just read the bar code. The transgressions of my predecessor bear no relationship to who I am. Please vote for me.

The public were not, however so easily swayed. The clone of the former Prime Minister may have been new and improved, but his left leaning ideals still remained as did his

strangely persistent bout of swamp ass. It got to the point where he started using ass napkins to soak up the

heron urine and turtle poo on his boxer briefs. The life of a man with indigenous swamp animals habituating his hindquarters was less than glamorous. For example, a salamander

had once managed to crawl it's way up into his boxers while he was sleeping. The memory of that still made him cringe. That's why now he always

sleep completely naked. That way, the spider won't be able to crawl into his boxers because he's not wearing any! Genius.

Plus which the velour sheets felt so good on his skin. Ahhh, relaxing. Still, no matter how comfy the sheets and heavy fuzzy blankets were, he imagined the spider's prickly legs

& had to ditch the Hitchcock cinema's drapes. When the old theater closed, he'd thought they were the perfect souvenir but the final film "Tarantula" was still fresh in his mind.