Yesterday was my 400th post. Whoa.
… I haven’t been sleeping well this week. I’m tired, lethargic and feel, like, sooo fat. I’ve decided to go on a temporary sobriety kick. I may have one or two drinks but the whole drinking to buzz is getting a bit stale.
Probable suspensions of said kick: winter break, trip to Australia and nights I just want to get away from it all, all the pain and agony of living when swimming in my own vomit is preferable to any awareness. (The frequency of the latter may depend heavily on results of Nov4)
… I picked up an attachment for my cell phone so I can plug in headphones to get 24/7 streaming audio the kind that’s been around for 50 years; see: FM radio. I’ve been listening to NPR. Most of the country would rather listen to racist, ignorant morons. I prefer people that sound smarter than I am to give me information about things I don’t understand.
… Speaking of, we’ve had seven years of a President I could likely beat in a battle of wits. It hasn’t worked out so great for most of us. I’m sure the Naval Academy gives a pretty solid learnin’ but I’d like someone in office that can actually keep up with conversations. Especially in a crisis.
… While we’re discussing the crisis, suspending a campaign for a national concern is somewhat thoughtful strange, ill-advised and shows you can’t keep up but still, thoughtful. Doing it after admitting you know little about the economy is kind of laughable. Saying you’ll suspend your campaign but letting your sales people be interviewed and continue raising money is a ploy.
Showing up in Washington, claiming you cross party lines and introducing a competing bill is a political stunt. Insisting on postponing the debate to the night of the VP debate is desperate. Not to mention shows a lack of faith in your ridiculous choice as second to the Oval Office. To go through all this and end the day with nothing but a few extra photos is absurd.
That he’ll probably be elected because of racism, greed and, likely, voter idiocy is depressing.
… And finally:
Since we mentioned that idiot, who’s stoked for the debate? I predict a grandstanding performance unlike any in political theater thus far.
McSame swoops in on his chartered jet, surrounded by media. He hops off and scampers with shuffling feet to one of his dozens of black SUVs that propels him, just in time, to the podium in Mississippi.
His first comment, still slightly out of breath: “Not bad for a former POW, right?” uncomfortable smirk, less comfortable thumbs-up The crowd collectively pisses themselves and the faces in the front row melt which elicits screams of horror that are drowned out by resounding applause.
The Drama!! Now That’s television!!!!