The Eighth Page

Ron Burgundy: A Solo Act

Hello from San Diego! Ron Burgundy here, and let me tell you the numerous reasons why you should vote for me One: My cologne. Two: My hair. Three: My jazz flute. Four: My hair. Oh wait, what is that? Did I casually mention my luscious hair again? Silly me, but it is looking pretty good. I mean, don’t act like you’re not impressed. No, please, I’m going to blush—no, your hair is as voluptuous as Odin’s beard, too! But seriously, stop interrupting and let me continue.

Five: My dog Baxter’s cologne. Six: Baxter’s hair. Wait, what is that? You get the point and want me to stop talking now? (Who do you think you are? You’re just a silly biographer and a lowly scribe! If you were a man, I’d punch you in the mouth. Right in the mouth! Well, if you feel that way, then you can go do that visceral thing in that repulsive place!)

Deer Andover,

It’s just me now—I hav just fired my scribe. I’m not going to lie: chairs were thrown. Regardles, you should still vote for me, becauze I’m very important and my car is made from a highly-combustible combinashun of mahogany and lether. I’m kind of a big deal. And I promise you that, unlike milk in the heat, I’m a very good choice. I greatly look forward to my prezedency. And remember, stay classy, Andover.