I am sitting here, for what ungodly course I don't know, watching the Republican National Convention. Last week, with a few glasses of wine, MY HILLARY, MY BILL, and that Obama character, I CRIED like a baby over the Democratic National Convention. The speeches were eloquent (My Billary's especially)and the whole show just smacked me in the ass and called me KITTEN!
This week.....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Sorry...I fell asleep as Giuliani was spitting his speech.
ANYWHO!
I am confused. If this were a boxing match, I'd be elbowing the guy in the seat next to me saying, "the Litte Irish Scrapper is throwing the fight." SERIOUSLY! Did McCain just give up? I mean I wasn't gonna vote for the scrappy little bastard anyhow, but JESUS....Couldn't he AT LEAST throw a punch? Couldn't he get a tag team partner to be his running mate, instead of one of those chicks that holds up the signs that say ROUND 2?
So in the end, I guess Obama collected enough money through the internet to buy this fight, and give the Little Irish Scrapper enough dough to buy his 8th house...Or to buy governor Palin a city hall for Wasilla, AK that doesn't look like a Louisanna Bait Shop (as James Carville would say)...
Oh shit....the scrapper just hit the floor....ONE, TWO..............please....
1 comment:
welcome - am i one of the fuckers i guess - happy you are back...
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