Oh, hello. I didn't see you. You kind of startled me there. Seriously, what the fuck, dude? Were you raised on the Serengeti or something? Ever hear of knocking first?
Ha, sorry about that. I'm a little on edge here, having parked my ass in front of election returns bombarding me from every 24-hour news source I can find. Look at all the flashy Red and Blue graphics! They're so ... flashy! And divisive! It's We Versus They! Hit The Bricks in '06! Us Good, Them Bad!
And don't forget the wonderfully awkward March of the Stammering Pundits, featuring the comic stylings of men with bright-orange faces trying to fill time when there's nothing yet to say. There's John King, who looks like someone got drunk and PhotoShopped Bill Clinton's face. There's Brit Hume, who looks like he just ate a roll of fiberglas insulation. There's Wolf Blitzer and Jeff Greenfield, stepping all over each other's lines like a pair of 15-year-old street hustlers trying to impress the same girl.
Throw in an uneasy mix of colorful, violent metaphors (like "slugfest", "battle", "bare-knuckle brawl", "bloodletting", and "disembowelment") and timeworn political platitudes, and you've got yourself a wondrous political spectacle. So put on a pot of coffee, Margaret, and let's all stay up together. Until everyone agrees that it's too close to call and it's time to unleash the attorneys.
