I have more sympathy for Kyle’s position than I would like to admit:
Which brings us to back to the 2004 election. Giant Douche versus Turd Sandwich. And I am not torn. I am not aloof. I flat out want Kerry to lose. I want all the self-righteous Hollywood assholes gnashing their teeth. I want my landlady pulling out her hair. I want all the Wild-Oats-shopping, Michael-Moore-watching, “If You Aren’t Outraged, You Aren’t Paying Attention”-bumper-sticker-having yuppie pricks to all move to Canada in protest.
Geez. What the hell is wrong with me? I feel like I should know better. This sort of jingoism is everything wrong with the human race. But I am them and they are other. I am Cocks. They are Taters. Watching the non-stop barrage of VERY nasty North Carolina political ads with my Memaw, I questioned her seeming belief that every ad for a Democrat was a lie. But deep down I felt what she did. The smirk of the Democrats always seems a little more seedy to me.
W. is my Randy Moss. I just can’t see him the way I see Kobe Bryant.
Happy, Kyle?
Three years ago, I felt that way. Even in 2002, I was genuinely amused at the failure of Democrats. Somewhere along the line, Kerry became my Randy Moss, and all I wanted was to see Katherine Jean Lopez cry.
Bittersweet. Damn that word. Lazy organic language can’t come up with anything better than piecing together “bitter” and “sweet.”
But happy. No certainly not.
I do take solace in the continguous grouping of red and blue states.
It practically begs for a left-wing seccessionist movement.
Three years ago, I felt that way. Even in 2002, I was genuinely amused at the failure of Democrats. Somewhere along the line, Kerry became my Randy Moss, and all I wanted was to see Katherine Jean Lopez cry.
Bittersweet. Damn that word. Lazy organic language can’t come up with anything better than piecing together “bitter” and “sweet.”
But happy. No certainly not.
I do take solace in the continguous grouping of red and blue states.
It practically begs for a left-wing seccessionist movement.