I'm thinking of writing a book called The Hundred Suckiest Americans and How They Blow Elephant Balls. That's just a working title.

In it, I would share some of my uncommon sense about the things that have made this country great -- and the culprits who are screwing it up. But, really, it would just be an excuse to slap together some stale stories about people I don't like and claim that these stories proved these people hate good people like you, my loyal readers. I probably wouldn't even write it myself. I could just come up with a list of names and have my publisher hire some english major to slap something together filing 320 pages with extra-wide margins. Like Michelle Malkin, I wouldn't check to see whether anything I wrote was true. I'd have my publisher start pimping the book before "I" even wrote it.

I'm sure my book would become the voice of all those Americans who feel that no one is speaking for them on perhaps the most vital issue of all: the kind of country in which we want to live.

Chapter one will feature a man who would do or say anything for another 15 minutes on Hardball.