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Provided that the incumbent went down yesterday in a humiliating defeat, I offer the following.
I don’t dance.
It’s not that I don’t dance that much.
I don’t dance.
Whenever I do, the pit bull gets all riled up and barks at me. Given that the elevation of her impressive pit bull bite strength is pretty much on level with my TharpSter junk, I’m not one to tempt the fates, push Karma, or test the odds.
None the less, I’ll be a happy camper if the President goes down in defeat by 1 point or a million.
At which point, I will dance.
And if he wins and America loses, there are only three things which could possibly cheer us up.
One of those things is the hope that Congress is completely turned back over to the GOP with a very strong majority bent on making the Executive branch play nice.
The second option is that maybe the Mayan prediction will come true and there will only be about 6 more weeks of life in general.
The third item is that dance I was talking about.
Enjoy this now because I’m bound to be righteously indignant tomorrow if Zaphod is in there for another term.
