The Dangerous Fat men

I have heard in the past few elections that there are people in this ridiculous mess of a country who like to decide who to vote for "when we're at the polls."

What? What?

Are there really such despicable retards alive in this country that will vote on such short notice and decide which way to go as they're pulling the lever? That's like deciding whether or not to shoot someone as you pull the trigger. Stop pretending you've been paying attention, stop acting like the three minutes of the debate you watched last Tuesday gives you any right to have your vote count equal to mine. That polling lever is dangerous, like a hairpin trigger on a .45 in the hands of a cop at a protest: STEP AWAY FROM THE FUTURE, YOU FATTENED MADMAN RETARD AMERICAN, YOU! Cast away your FOXNews coloured glasses and your McDonald's bag of D grade meat! Open those glazed over American Idol eyes!

I respect people who belong to parties; at least they're trying to pay attention. Sure, both are both horsefucked messes of American politics, most folks probably agree more with one than the other. And I respect Republicans- it's hard to respect such scum, but you do have to respect pure evil when you see it just based on the fact that it's proven to you that it's actually there, and yes, it's that fucking evil.

What I cannot respect is the rambling mass of loons who vote for people based on who they think they would have a better time at a barbeque with, or who they think would change their tire for them if they were stuck. Let me save you the trouble- none of them would would change your tire; McCain especially can't change your tire because it would crush him, and if you have a Jeep you're out of luck because he can't raise his arms high enough to get the tire off the tailgate.

And all of them would get drunk at your barbeque, piss on your table, shoot your dog ("Inadvertently," says the spokeswoman), and then fly your wife to Vegas and get her drunk off of dirty martinis before they banged her. Let's not forget that they are not only "politicians", but they are also "rich", and the last thing that rich care about is your macaroni salad or the roofing nail in your tire or that your wife hates dirty martinies. It's all a means to an end.

I am supporting Obama. He too would probably try and bang your wife, and he might eventually be convicted of some heinous crime that only a politician would think that he could get away with. But I doubt it. He has some kind of honesty in his voice, some sense of urgentness and importantness and swagger that makes you think if another September 11 came around, he might actually be able to handle it instead of riding his tricycle around the White House lawn with cap guns and a WWII helmet over his eyes trying to catch evildoers in the bushes.

He might not send kids to die in the desert sands of countries of foreign countries. He might realize the absolute, resolute ridiculousness of the contradiction in terms that is "preemptive war," something so bizarre and asinine that it could only come from the "President" who invented the word, "irregardless."

I said a while ago that a storm is coming; I was wrong. The storm is here, the torrents of blood and death and horror are here, and the future of this country sways as the ground shakes with the artillery fire in the dunes. Our future is a drunken Jenga game that the billionaires toy with, and every step nearer to the election we get, another piece is drawn out by their long, wicked fingers.

I don't care who you vote for, but if you vote Republican, you have no right to complain when my generation eventually lights you on fire and puts it out with a chain.