where wildly different is perfectly normal
Boy, I’m glad that’s over!
Boy, I’m glad that’s over!

Boy, I’m glad that’s over!

The screaming, the bargaining with higher powers, the exhaustion…and that was just the migraine that blindsided me on Monday. I’m glad the election is over too. Now we can get on with other things in our lives, like bitching that Christmas decorations have been up since the end of September. I have a hard enough time dealing with the fact that it can snow here in mid-September, I really don’t need “Jingle Bells” playing at the store too. A local radio station started playing non-stop holiday music on November 1st. A few years ago they became the first station to start playing on Thanksgiving. The next year we got hit with a ton of snow the week before Turkey Day, so they quickly changed their programming and started then. And now it’s November 1st. Needless to say, I don’t listen to that channel. Again, it’s all XM, all the time for me. Where else could I learn the words to “I Farted on Santa’s Lap?” I shouldn’t be allowed to have children, I’m just corrupting the snot out of them. Their wives are going to hate me. ; )

But, back to corruption…ooh, good segue there, Jen! The election. I didn’t realize I missed used-car commercials so much. Or ads for the Furniture Mafia (sorry, I’d link, but I don’t want them to show up and break my couch legs). Or Viagra ads…they’re so uplifting. ; ) So it’s all over but the shouting, and since the shouting is non-stop, it’s over. If the dudes in Montana and Virginia would just concede and go back into their hidey-holes, we could get on with our lives with a Democrat-controlled Congressthankyouthankyouthankyou. Checks and balances here we come. Wait, what’s that sound? A quacking sound…oh, Lame Duck President. Ah. Rummy’s resignation yesterday was just the marachino cherry on the top of a couple of whipped-cream days. Mmm… There was a fly in the sundae, but I just flicked him out: waiting to vote is ridiculous. I’ve never, ever had to wait to vote. Ever. Forty-five minutes with two young children is in-freakin’-sane. Then we got to the voting machines and I threatened both boys with death if either one so much as breathed on the machine wrong. If my sons are going to end up on CNN, it sure ain’t gonna be because they unplugged the voting machines and lost all the votes. (Did anyone else notice that every machine was plugged into the one next to it, so if the one closest to the outlet went out, they all could? Like bad Christmas lights). So after my “short by Denver standards” wait, and seeing the median age of election workers, I’ve decided to get trained to be an election judge for the next election. Thank you, Cursing Mama. In two years A will be in full-day school and J will be able to wipe his own butt, so I’ll be able to go watch polls for 15 hours on election day. If computer voting truly is the way of the future, someone with some computer savvy is going to have to step up. The nice old ladies and gents there….well…yeah.

And now my sons demand attention. Darned kids, can’t they feed themselves?

But wait, like a bad infomercial, there’s more!

Britney is free, free I tell you! Finally, she’s done something intelligent! And she can continue this trend by hiring a hell of a lawyer to tell her immature hubby to go screw himself, he ain’t never getting child custody. Oh, and correctly using a car seat. That too.


  1. cursingmama

    I’m so glad you’re joining the ranks of election judge! Now if you could only do it here with me things would be perfect! I apparently am a fan of the exclamation mark this afternoon!

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