Q: How can you volunteer to work at the white house?

A: Just show up at the front door and offer to help. It worked for me.

Yes, I was arrested, but it certainly wasn't because of my helpful attitude and can-do spirit. My lawyer thinks it has something to do with the animal pelts I wore. Some hadn't been cleaned properly and, well, they stunk a little. Apparently people were turned off by the faces mounted on my shoulders and back, specifically the faces of their recently buried loved ones. How foolish of me, thinking that the sight of a friendly face might help ease the stress of a long work day. You'd think I would have been treated as a hero, handed a Medal of Freedom and given an immediate audience with the President. At the very least, you'd expect some applause. Maybe a hug. Instead, they yelled. And cursed. And threw things. With remarkable accuracy. At no point was any consideration given to the amount of work I spent building my suit of pelts: researching family trees, scouring obituaries, digging up graves, carefully removing the faces without slicing off any distinguishing features. It's like none of it mattered.

Hopefully you can learn from my mistakes. Wear a suit. Maybe call ahead. Show up during business hours, instead of 3AM. Save the faces until you've met everyone and know a little about their relationships with the deceased.

I've made a lot of  bad decisions in my life, but there's only one thing I wish I could do over again: My visit to the White House. Well, two things. I regret all that time I spent caring about The X-Files. That shit didn't lead anywhere.

Q: How do presidents get citizens to vote for them?

A: By promising to do things that they will never do, have no intention of doing, are incapable of doing, or are impossible. In everyday life, such statements would be called "Lies"or "Outright Fraud"  but in the charming world of Presidential elections, they are called "Campaign Promises" or "Politics as Usual."

A Presidential candidate is not judged on his experience, which is often lacking, or his record, often spotty, or even his prior public statements, often contradictory. Instead he is judged on his ability to make you believe that he believes the words currently coming out of his mouth, even though you know these words are not true and will be forgotten as soon as he is elected. In a normal person we would consider such a trait "Pathological Narcissism" but in a Presidential candidate we call it "Electability."

If a candidate cannot win over the public with his fake sincerity, he will often resort to something known as "Negative Campaigning" or "Attack Ads" which you would recognize as "Character Assassination" or "Slander." Suggesting that a fellow human being, someone who has dedicated his life to public service, would trigger a nuclear war or put senior citizens to death or institute white slavery might seem beyond the bounds of human decency, and reveal its suggester as an unreliable, unscrupulous schemer, but this is what wins elections, tearing the other guy down.

If the traditional techniques of treachery, deceit and betrayal fail to capture the imagination of the voting public, a candidate has only one weapon left: stealing the election. But that requires a lot of political capital, the kind only a political  dynasty with a considerable fortune built on bootlegging or shady oil deals could posses. And dynasties like that only come around every 40 years or so.

Q: What do the cabinet do for the president?

A: The cabinet advises the President on the issues facing America. As essentially his top Lieutenants, they do his bidding across the land and ensure the country runs smoothly. They hold many meetings and give many speeches. In many ways, they are the face of the administration.

The Secretary of State is the nations top diplomat, and handles America's overseas affairs.

The Secretary of Defense manages the military, and works to keep our country safe.

The Secretary of Commerce works with the President to insure America's business stay in the black and we don't have another of those pesky recessions.

As for your position, well, I must admit I'm at a loss. I'm unfamiliar with the duties of the Secretary of Chocolate Pudding. I'm not really sure such a position exists. Let me take a look at your paperwork.

I see the problem here. Your so-called orders are nothing more than a giveaway from the Jello people. There's not need to be embarrassed. This type of thing happens all the time. LAst week we had a man insisting he was the Secretary of Sexy Ladies, but after three hours of shouting we convinced him he was just Vice President.

Q: Can you get TB Tuberculosis from touching surfaces or clothing of a infected person?

A: Of course not. What gave you such a silly idea? Just because I am sick with TB, along with your sister, your cousin, our maid, the dog, most of the fish, and even some of the plants does not mean it spreads so easily. Come on now, a disease that lives on counter tops and clothes? Is it spread by little wizards who stay behind and cast sickness spells on anyone who happens to cut meat or wash laundry? Do they have tiny little wands and tiny little pointy wizard hats? You have quite an imagination. Your mother would get a big laugh out of your crazy ideas, if she were still able to laugh. Or breath. Or live. We should probably taker her out back. She's starting to attract vermin.

I have no idea how it happened. One minute she was perfectly healthy, hand washing the sheets from my sick bed while I stood coughing in the corner. The next minute she had come down with TB and was soon coughing blood. Must have been something she ate.

Honestly, I have no idea how TB spreads. All I know is that your tiny wizard theory is laughable and will never be spoken of again. I am not a doctor. I will never be a doctor. I will never speak to a doctor. We'll deal with this outbreak the same way we deal with every problem we've ever faced as a family: Locking the doors, shutting off the lights and waiting until it's over. It got us through the LA riots, it got us through the Rapture, it got us through your uncle being gay, its good enough to get us through a series of strong chest colds. This too shall pass, son. Soon, we'll be on the mend, although it may be too late for some of the plants. And your mother, obviously. But the rest of us will be one big happy family soon. Now come over here and give me a hug.

Hold on a minute.

Ack! Ack! Ack!

 Huuuhhh-chuuuuk!

Eh. Eh. Eh.

Ugh.

Wheeeeew.

I always thought "coughing up a lung" to be a figurative term. At least we have something for dinner. Your mother was getting a bit gamy.

Q: How long did they stay on the moon and where did they land?

A: Details are scarce. Most of our equipment malfunctioned during take-off when Mitchell spilled his can of Jolt on the control panel. Radio contact was limited; we had no way to monitor their health, nor their progress. The giant electric map we commissioned to track their approach to the moon took D batteries. Would have been nice to know that when we picked it up from the cartographer. Someone won't be getting his "I Helped Put a Multicultural Team of Americans on the Moon and All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt" T-shirt. Actually, no one will be getting them. The manufacturer left town with our down payment. I'm sure people will enjoy a hastily scribbled Post-It with the same message just as much. Remind me to make those.

Obviously, we have no idea where they landed, but we can assure you it was on the moon. We suspect somewhere near the top and around toward the back. That's were Frank threw the dart on our scale model. He's got pretty good aim. According to the flight plan, they will drive their moon rover, a converted golf cart loaded with dumbbells, directly to the Sea of Tranquility, where they will destroy all traces of previous moon expeditions and claim the moon for our county. This all depends on the moon rovers, but we assume they'll work fine. We spent all last weekend on them, tying down the weights and covering them with decals. Gene could barely lift it once we were done, and he's the strongest guy in the space program.

Earlier, you asked "How long did they stay on the moon?" Your question, being in past tense, makes me think you believe the team is back on Earth, their mission completed. Such a belief is mistaken. They're still up there. We can't really say how long. All the clocks in here stopped working once we pulled out the D batteries and everyone had their cell service shut off due to non-payment. Those are the kind of sacrifices you make to send a man into space. The weekly celebratory keg parties don't pay for themselves. That money has to come from somewhere.

Don't worry though. Our team will be back soon enough. They have everything they need to get back home. Parts. Fuel. Instructions. Everything. All they need to do is build a new rocket from the spare parts of their lunar module, find a heat source, and, using Professor Bernheimer's formula, convert moon rocks into rocket fuel. The only way the plan could fail is if they damage some of the parts or lose the formula. And there's no way they would be dumb enough to -

Oh boy.

Heh. Heh.

How about that? While  answering your question, I reached into my pocket for my grocery list - after our conversation I'm going to the grocery store - and I couldn't find it. But I did find the slip of paper with Professor Bernheimer's formula. Which means our team on the moon will try make space fuel with a list of toiletries and fruit.

Man, that is a gutbuster.

Don't tell anyone about this, okay? This could be a real black eye for the Berkshire County Space Program. And we'd been doing so well.