When Myrtle Met Barry: Griefwatch ’08

I don’t like Barack Obama.  At all.  But I’m on the side of Right, and therefore I will vote for him like the yellow dog Democrat that I am.   I need more, though.  I want to want to vote for him, and I don’t.  But!  I’ve been known to perform death defying, 180-degree turns from hate to love, so I’m hoping that my feelings (nothing more than feelings) will change before November.  Just working my way through the stages of grief, y’all, but every time I try to inch from anger to bargaining, Barry tells me I cannot haz.  Why he gotta be that way?  Beacuse it’s bros before hoes, that’s why.

Reproductive rights are just about the only issue tethering me to the party anymore, and Mr. Present’s latest mating call to the religious right, in which he rejects “mental distress” as a qualification for late-term abortion, chapped my pretty ass.  Mental illness is real, Barry.  Come watch as my dad and I peel my mama off the deck after a suicide attempt and we shall learn that lesson together.

With 120 days left to go, I’m still not feeling the love.  But Tomorrow is Another Day, and I still have Hope (thank you, Bill Clinton).


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4 Responses to “When Myrtle Met Barry: Griefwatch ’08”

  1. Skinny Bone Jones Says:

    Lawsy, I’ve stopped paying attention, even. Can you believe that? STOPPED. Why? Because that fucker ain’t got shit to say I ain’t already heard before 84,000 times, so he can kiss my pretty, half-breed ass.

  2. trixiefromtoronto Says:

    I did not know about this place. Why didn’t I?


  3. Skinny Bone Jones Says:

    You think not tellin’ is the same as not lyin’, now don’t you?

  4. myrtlebeachbum Says:

    Aw, y’all, I didn’t think anyone would care! I used to use my mind all day long, and now I…don’t. I thought that recording my [very] random thoughts would be a good way to keep the gunk out. It’s working so far, and having my girls stop by to say “hey” is the cherry on the cake.

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