My President thinks you can go without food and water for hours, days even. He can barely afford the time to go to the restroom either, and when he does he never ever locks the door because he trusts people and wants people to love him. I’m sure they do already because no one has more friends on Tweeter than My President. He’s the only President who talked four times to Angela Merkel on the phone last year, the only one in whose presence Xi Jinping warms up to the idea of hugging in public.

My President challenges himself to refrain from leaking urine on conferences and economic forums, being a superman and all, as only supermen set world records in performance. From what I know, there’s no official world record for it but someday My President will be officially amazing. The mean would say My President can’t hold back from talking potty talk, which might indicate a phobia of pulling down his pants or that he’s just full of shit. Truth is, My President has no time for fear and I actually think he’s got something big between his legs, so there you go. My President is just tense—a tense workaholic—but he better start using some relaxation techniques to help him have regular bowel movements, for his own good.

My President claims frequent trips to the bathroom, regular meals and sleeping through the night are the display of the weakness of character, likes to believe he sets an example for the whole nation or at least those who aren’t able to contain their base urges. Because he who abstains is called the good person, he who encourages others to abstain is the person superior to the good person. If you look up superior in a dictionary, I’m sure you’ll see My President.

My President has wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that get deeper each day. He worries too much. I do too. It’s alive! It’s alive!