Happy president's day, everyone!
Ok, so it isn't the REAL presidents day, bet hey, he's not the real president-so it's a wash. He is however, the people's choice, barely, by the hair of the last tassle on his worst pair of cowboy boots. Four more years folks, four. Get out your mad-libs and headphones, this ride is gonna be long, bumpy and probably full of pit stops to ask for directions.
What to do? I say PARTY! I say party like Jeff Spicoli. I say party til ya puke!
I say to ease the pain and dull the senses, we need to make these next four years a very hazy, foggy, bad memory. No need to dwell on details, we already know the outcome. The Iraqi elections will be a complete disaster-and no one in Washington will admit it regardless of the number of smoldering corpses of candidates piling up in the streets of Fallujah. After we claim victory in the name of freedom over there, we can regroup...turn tail and take the welcoming party to Iran, where we will again engage in a fruitless bloodbath. It's only a matter of time. And what can YOU do? Well, regardless if you are in the 51% for or 49% against, I say party till the cops show up, and try again in 4 years.
God help us, one and all.
Oh, and start here.
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