“All across America, voter turnout is at historic lows. I’m talking, staggering lows. Establishment candidates have managed to alienate almost every voter, across every gender and ethnicity… even white voters — a 35% turnout, it’s unbelievable! Back to you David.”
“OK—very illuminating, thank you, Melissa. Here’s a side note to today’s election coverage. A fifth grade class from Wapakoneta, Ohio created a viral firestorm by nominating their teacher, Patricia Garcia, a single mother of two as a write-in candidate for President.” Their social experiment blew up on Twitter and Facebook over the last couple of days and the public at large has responded favorably…excuse me…
I’ve just been handed some Breaking News—ok—It seems, with 75% of all precincts reporting, Patricia Garcia, a six-time-teacher-of-the-year is currently pulling ahead of both establishment party candidates with 52% of the vote…Now that’s what I call some good, *bleep* *bleep* change you can believe in!”
The car was full before Mike slid in, hip-checked Tom, and said, “When did you start wearing horseshit for deodorant?”
“Screw you!” Tom spat back, “Maybe you should dial back on the donuts, blimp boy.”
“Move your ass out of my face,” a muffled voice screamed.
Rolling to a stop the driver erupted, “Everybody shut the hell up, and get out!”
An avalanche of clowns began piling out, pushing, shoving, and slapping as the Big Top roared with laughter.
A vicious clown brawl ensued, but the people in the stands couldn’t tell…
It seems clowns paint their smiles on for a reason.
I felt zombie-like, practically sleepwalking through the airport.
My odyssey had three weather delays and two re-routes. I was booked on the red-eye in an hour and needed a cup of coffee—bad.
“What can I get you, sir?”
“Latte, Frappuccino, Expresso, Iced…”
“Regular or decaffeinated?”
“Very good: ‘Lighty Brighty,’ ‘Roasty Toasty,’ or ‘Lava Java’?”
“Uh… we’re still talking coffee…right?”
“Of course sir.”
“I’ll try the Roasty Toasty. Extra large.”
Glancing up, I saw ‘Delayed’ pop up next to my flight.
Handing me the coffee, “That’ll be fourteen dollars, sir.”
With a disappearing smile…“Of course, it will.”