Damn. Despite all valiant efforts to the contrary, I am finishing my final October blog 3 hours and 10 minutes after the 1st day November. A completely ridiculous and unfortunate result of fairly frequent sleep-deprivation. I am going off exactly 2 hours and 45 minutes of sleep, because due to some strange circumstance... I have come down with a rather alarming case of Insomnia, and I could not be more disgruntled. My tank is running on E here, and I have subsequently been spending long periods of time zoning out with a vague and vacant look on my face, and a small but steady trickle of drool from the right corner of my mouth because, you know, I like to be consistent. I would like nothing more than to spend the rest of the day abed in my new Vicky's Secret nightie, dozing off at regular intervals while half-listening to Eternal sunshine of the Spotless Mind in the background... for pleasant dreams. But alas, I have made commitments, arrangements, whatever you may call them, and soon I must rise, get dressed, haul ass in the sunless early morning and take no less than 50 different trains while muttering no less than 50 different curse words. Per second. My great uncle and his wife were in town from D.C last weekend and it confirmed for me the idea that old people in general talk ENTIRELY TOO MUCH. I sat with them at the dinner table thinking to myself "If I'm called 'little lady' one more time... just once more, that lovely carving knife Uncle Clem (yes, all black people really do have an Uncle Clem) imported all the way from the nearest dollar store is going to end up lodged in at someone's quivering jowls until I can reestablish some fucking dignity." Their presence also made me remember why I said I was never going to another family reunion so long as I am mentally fit enough to realize my surroundings. I am appalled by the distant family member's unwillingness to believe that you don't remember dick about them from when you were 3 years old, and they might has well have been fucking George and Wheezy because we don't know each other. Period. I am also thoroughly convinced that one should be allowed large quantities of alcoholic beverage when subjected to such mental abuse as is inflicted by relatives. Or at least fix it so that I can start the fuck smoking again and finally get rid of the persistent neurosis I've developed since I forced myself to quit. I'm reminded suddenly of that line from "Secret Window" where Johnny Depp tells John Turturro that he's taking up smoking again for his health. I remember when that movie first came out back in '04 (when I could still smoke virtually guilt-free) I made that my new punchline, and whenever I was around some angry naysayer, I would whip it out like some wicked weapon the likes of which they had never seen. But alas, the glory days are over. I am forced to acknowledge the rather alarming warning labels on the packaging and be a model citizen. And I can't tell you how much it fucking sucks. Like listening to McCain's wheezy, raspy voice, calling me his friend repeatedly when he couldn't give a good butt fuck about me, Joe the plumber, or any other lowly fucking middle or lower class American comes kind of close though, but it's not like we pay his paycheck or anything. It's not like we're the whole reason his job exists. That would just be overly presumptuous now wouldn't it? And I'm hoping that these godforsaken, hope-injecting polls haven't been overly presumptuous, because and I mean this in all seriousness, if John McCain becomes the next president of the United States, I'm going to have shoot myself in the face. Right before I flee to Canada. And have extensive plastic surgery that I'll get their government to pay for. I mean, I've been wanting that Heidi Montag nose ever since she got it, so I might as well have those homely Canadians pick up the tab. But honestly, I'm terribly nervous. I can't imagine what this country would be like under a McCain administration, but I'd like to think it would involve lots of poverty, a complete disregard for the current energy crisis resulting in the Earth melting onto our heads at random moments throughout the day, as well as, of course, lots and lots of beer. So I guess it can't be TOO bad. But still. I think the job of President of the United States is the most ridiculously challenging demanding job you could pursue in this country, and frankly, it baffles me that these idiot politicians keep turning up every year, knocking each other over to get it. I mean sure there's the international fame, the sweet annual salary, and, best of all, the ability to throw all the White House sexy parties you want, but you can't tell me these assholes who run for office really expect to get in there and honestly know what they're doing? They're ridiculous. I don't think anyone is qualified to be president until they've been one already. No it's true. You can watch all the C-SPAN, and MSNBC you want, but nothing can prepare you for the sacrifices you have to make, the gravity of the decisions that will be placed upon your shoulders and the immense pressure that comes with that rather difficult responsibility. It's the kind of job where you're not only blamed for your own personal fuck-ups, but the fuck-ups of 301,139,947 people. And that's not even including the illegal aliens and the newborns. And I've done a lot of campaigning and speaking out on behalf of Barack Obama, but the truth is, if he wants to be the President, he's just as much an idiot as the rest of them. And God love him for it. That's the thing about having faith in a politician. You get so caught up in the smooth talk, the fancy words, and the hope stew that you forget that what this man is, at the very core of his being, is a politician. And obviously an ambitious one at that. I'm not saying that I'm suddenly withdrawing my vote for him. For one thing I've already voted so I couldn't if I wanted to. And for another, Republicans are typically pretty fucking scary, and a septuagenarian one... well I just can't think what's worse. But I'm just reflecting on a hard truth. You can't ever trust a politican. Because they'll promise you the fucking second coming of Jesuse if the can get your vote and then they get in office and The People are asking them where the hell's the messiah, they tell us some bullshit about, "extenuating circumstances", or "new timeline", or some other lame ass political mumbo jumbo that we will in turn eat up because whereas we fed willingly from their hand on the campaign trail, now we're stuck with the bastard and it's either eat the bullshit or starve. And that's what's so great about living in America today. We are not a nation of whiners former Senator Phil Gramm, we are a nation of shit-eaters. And that's okay! Because, I mean look at the whole slavery thing. A whole race of people ate major shit for a couple hundred years and it really isn't that big a deal now, right? Because no one has ever or will ever suffer from the backlash of slavery, right? That's why we didn't get the 40 acres and a mule. We SO didn't need it. I mean when you've got the clothes on your back and the fresh scent of American earth in your nostrils, who the hell needs resources to live? America's the kind of country where you can live off hope, and hope alone. That's why there's so many homeless people. And dead guys.
End.
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