Election Night, 2008.2

I am sitting in my bar, surrounded by some of my best friends, and we have a new president. There are young black men running down the street with political signs, yelling with happiness. There are strangers cheering at each other on the street.

President Obama. I like the way that sounds.

Can he solve all the problems? No. But at least. . . he'll try.

It's a good night to be an American because suddenly? The promises we tell our children are true.

Hey, Mandy? Wish you were here. It's a good night in the Lou.

Election Night, 2008.1

Drunker. We paused for the consumption of food. Slightly drunk. We've progressed to candy now.

I would like for Florida to do something to earn its keep, since all it has ever done is cause me pain.

Congratulations, Governor Nixon. Congratulations, Senator Hagan. Dole done got her weave snatched.

I suspect further updates might realize more typos. Sorry, yo'.

Election Night, 2008

So.

I am sitting here at Mangia, with The Husband and a motley array of lunatics, drinking and watching election results on our laptops. CNN, NPR, MSNBC, 538, and the Douchenozzles at Fox News—we are so fucking wired at this point that I we’re not even getting the same results at the same table.

I waited 2 hours and 45 minutes to vote this morning--a small price to pay for the chance that our culture can get a get out of pulling train for the bible beaters for the next 4 years.

Here’s to hoping, kids. I’m drinking tonight, regardless. Here’s to hoping we’re celebrating, not mourning again.

Go Obama. Get some.