Barack and I have a lot in common, but here I’m not referring to my stone-cold, deep-down coolness, my unassailable calmness under fire, my astounding erudition, or even my ability to dance really, really well.

Nothing like that.

imagesHere’s what the most respected, intelligent, and cool person in the world and I have in common:

Neither of us has an American birth certificate!

Yes!  Donald Trump proved to the world with his “Birther” movement that OBAMA DOES NOT HAVE AN AMERICAN BIRTH CERTIFICATE AND THEREFORE HAS RULED ILLEGALLY AS PRESIDENT FOR EIGHT YEARS AND NEVER SHOULD HAVE BEEN PRESIDENT TO BEGIN WITH!!!

Trump first made this accusation in 2011, and continued saying it until seven weeks before the 2016 President Election, when he pivoted 180 degrees and blamed HILLARY for making these accusations about Obama.

But I gotta say that this not having a U.S. birth certificate makes me nervous.

See, I’ve had a little thing going on in England in the past month, in which I needed to prove my UK citizenship (in the face of my American birth and many years living in the States).

Proving my UK-ness was actually quite easy, because I have in my possession the following:

–A British birth certificate listing the birth of a UK citizen (moi!) in America, three months before my English parents returned to England, bringing me (obvs!) with them.

–A National Identity Card for my first post-college job working as a typist at the Oxford publishing firm owned by Robert Maxwell, a Member of Parliament and crook of the highest order (did I just repeat myself?).

Sir Robert is famous for:

1) being the moral equivalent (and chief adversary) of Rupert Murdoch.

2)  once being described by British Government fraud investigators as “unsuited to run a public company” (Maxwell ran and owned many companies);  and

2) his body being found in the ocean after it was discovered that he plundered his employee pension fund to pay for his scurrilous business deals, leading to the question:  Did he jump (off his yacht), or was he pushed?

But luckily, I found gainful employment with him;   hence, my British National Identity Card.

–And my National Health Service card.  Thank you, NHS!

In terms of my British citizenship, I’m sorted.

But this made me think to look for my American birth certificate.

I looked.

And I looked.

And I looked.

And guess what?  I DO NOT HAVE AN AMERICAN BIRTH CERTIFICATE!

My mother has just confirmed that there is no record of my squawling babyness anywhere in the records of the United States government!

Because my parents failed to record my birth with the Yanks.  And then they shot back to England when I was three months old.

So I have no proof that I am an American citizen!

Which means that Herr President Trump, if he hears about my lack of an American birth certificate, can deport me along with all the 11 million murderous rapist Mexicans, and the 3.3 million bomb-loving ISIS terrorist Muslims currently living in the U.S., and thereby tear me, a loving mother, out of the arms of my three (American) children, and away from a place I consider, along with England, to be my home.

Please don’t tell him, okay?

I really don’t want to go through what Obama endured all those years with not being an American citizen.  When it came down to it, Obama actually had a Hawaiian birth certificate.  I have nothing.  And soon Obama will be gone from the White House, so it’s not as if he can offer me asylum.

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