As many of you know and as is being and will be demonstrated again and again over the next year and some change by my erstwhile opponents, campaigning is exhausting. In fact, just looking at the over-educated, elitist, corpulent yet well-groomed political warriors vying for the Iowa vote, you can see the look in their eyes, the near dead look that screams from a dark, moist place, “If I have to kiss one more fat, tapioca-smelling baby; if have to eat one more corn dog, or worse – a deep fried Oreo; if I have to be heckled by one more plaid wearing, drunken fuck-stick, I’m gonna hurl. All I want is a good night’s sleep.”

Well, sorry buckos. If you’re as serious about this as we are here at Moreau2016, then you’re in it for the long haul. Get used to the lumpy mattresses, the bed mites, the rock hard pillows, the poor room service. Ugh.

Moreau2016 has elected (elected, get it?) to forego Iowa. And Vermont. And South Carolina. In fact, we will only be attending the caucuses held nearby. And by nearly we mean neighborhood parties. And our local pool. And Happy Hours in the Reston Town Center. I may be travelling for a wedding later in the year, so perhaps an out of state appearance is in the offing there. I’ll keep you posted.

Watch for Moreau2016 in your town. Or better yet, come visit our town. See you on the road. In the meantime, I’m going to put down my lovely American Pale Ale, brush my teeth and get into bed next to the future First Lady.

Good night, Iowa.