The Romney campaign is dying an ugly death. Facing an impossible path to the presidency, he has nothing to lose by doubling-down on lies and unleashing one last round of race-baiting ads targeting the few undecided miscreants left in Klaven Korner, Ohio.
Prospects are excellent for a joyous victory celebration at Dr. and Mrs. Von’s McMansion. I might even break a court ordered mandate that forbids the consumption of tequila within 35,000 feet of public school property and/or hanging on to anything remotely motorized. Because my lawyer and I are on the outs, I am not sure if I can drink tequila alone in an abandoned cemetery. I will admit that enforced tequila abstention saved me money in the unplanned emergency room visit department. Occasionally I miss waking up with strange, some of them, anyway. Those that left previously undetected prosthetic limbs in bed while hopping to the bathroom do not spawn romantic memories of past Charles Bukowski-esque sex. In my miscellaneous drawer, are dentures once presumably worn by a faceless, hopefully not legless, one-night stand. Assuming the act of standing was physically possible. I spent several days in nervous anticipation waiting for the owner to reclaim her smile. Adler suggested I make contact via the newspaper’s lost and found section. This seemed like a bad idea, rife with potential existential drama. Not thinking clearly at the time, I thought about leaving them in the mailbox, but soon nixed the idea over fear that my mailman might have to report his find to postal management. It is odd that Jane Doe would not want them back. They are a nice set, no Mt. Vernon Dental Clinic One Day Wonders.
Halloween came and went without any burning paper sacks of cat shit-as-trick left by vengeful ex-in-laws. It has been several years since donning my usual costume and attending Fat Man’s annual ghoul fest. I always went as Cousin Walter. It was easy. I wore a JC Penny business suit, cheap polyester tie and tried to sell cornered attendees life insurance policies. My neighborhood must not be considered fertile trick-or-treat territory. There were no little kiddies ringing the doorbell. Last year, I was surprised to find two little goblins standing on the front porch with their bags at the ready. Unprepared, I quickly improvised and gave them each a Bic lighter and Tupperware containers of sweet and sour pork. It was either that or Styrofoam go cups of Uban.
Nate Silver of 538 fame upgraded Obama’s chances of winning to 79%. Earlier today, Dick Morris informed Fox News xenophobes Romney would win in a landslide. Go figure. I plan to watch Fox News election night just to see if Sean Hannity can refrain from using the N-word, assuming Dr. and Mrs. Von have another television available. I am all but certain they do.
juan don's wondrous muck 