A Rainy Day in Burbank.

Part of me is terrified that Barack Obama will not win a general election against John McCain. I am neither obsessed with Barack Obama, his policies, nor his general cowardice in ever actually saying anything (that may ignite the antipathy of the bitter vote). But I feel that if he is not elected president, it is because we live in a country of ignorance and racism, a hard fact my generation has not had to reconcile. Unless of course he cannot win because he is elite, which, last time I checked, is a pretty good thing to be.

 

It is a rainy day in Burbank. I can’t wait to watch Recount on HBO and catch up on the history of the last time we reached deep to the bottom of the barrel and found a man idiotic enough to never be considered elite at anything.  

Hillary Clinton & Mel Gibson

I recently wrote a song for a Twinpop duo. They’re twins. It was a perfect introduction to the world of writing pop music. I coined the phrase “default to thug.” When in doubt, shout ebonically. The song is about love, at least I think it is. There are only twenty words, repeated for the better part of three and a half minutes.

 

I don’t know if I like Barack Obama because I’m young, or he’s black. The third option, a pure hatred of Hill, has only come about recently. I can’t remember the last time a family fell from my good graces as fast as the Clinton’s have. Hell, I even listened to Bill read his ridiculous memoir. All 12,000 pages of it. Actually, I do remember the last time I turned on someone so quickly: Mel Gibson.

 

Unlike Tom Cruise, who I loathe but continue to enjoy his body of work, I cannot bring myself to watch Mel in a movie anymore. Even Braveheart. My new least favorite Times columnist, “Billy” Kristol, mentioned “culturally conservative” voters as having problems voting for Barack Obama. My next post will be as many euphemisms for “racist idiots” I can think of. Ethnically restricting. I am accepting submissions.

Sorry for the extended absence. It shouldn’t happen again. 

The Nature of a Good Compromise…

…is that both side are equally dissatisfied. 

There has long been a joke about Martin Luther King’s eponymous avenues/streets/boulevards, across this great land, often being epicenters of gang violence and other negative social activity. Having driven about the megalopolis that is Los Angeles, I can safely apply this rule to any street named after a famous person. Even Buddy Holly has some nasty swath of asphalt running underneath the 101 at Cohuanga.

 

Last minute deliveries set us in the van at 7 PM last night, just in time to listen to the 21st/22nd/40th Democratic debate on NPR. I appreciate having listened to it on the radio if only because sight may have multiplied the revulsion I feel for both candidates at this point. I am so bored of watching Barack Obama, elite in every sense of the word, try to pretend he is some normal dude. Didn’t we elect a normal dude/idiot? He messed up real good.

 

I don’t see what is so wrong about electing someone who doesn’t bowl, but rather goes to law school. I like Hill drinking whisky, but Crown Royal? What ever happened to Jameson’s? I think Obama should give up on the racist, stupid white folk, move to California, get his Marijuana grower’s license, and win the popular vote on the back of stoner, non-voters. There are more than a few holes in this plan, but in this election, every plan looks like swiss cheese.

 

Thanks to some generous benefactors, I was able to put gas in Scott’s car this morning. It was $3.94/gal. Ouch. 

Drive Me Crazy.

An odd mid-workday post. I have been placed on the insurance at Capital Audio Rental, which means I can apply my significant driving talents to our delivery schedule. I was a little saddened to read Mr. Kristol’s piece this morning about Barack Obama in the NYT. I’m all about free speech and whatnot, but not when it comes to bashing people I personally like.