Detritus

(Detriti?)

We're still feeling flush with victory over at the Mags household. It's been so long since The Man and I felt like we were at all relevant to the country we live in. I was beginning to be sort of convinced that we'd have to move to Europe to have our ideals be considered normal, you know? I realize the victory was razor-thin, and that we are still a very divided nation, but...finally, finally, it appears that I am not in the minority anymore. People finally realize that Bush is a dangerously incompetent man.

Oooh, I get shuddery just thinking about that word...majority. I think I have Majority Wood. Like Morning Wood, but it only happens every 15 years or so. Actually, for me, that's about the same frequency as Morning Wood. (You listening, The Man?)

I realize why George Allen and Burns in Montana just rolled over tits up today. They're handing us the shit sandwich that is Iraq, and they're probably just as happy not to have to deal with it. It's not going to be a fun couple of years. I just hope that the Democrats heard us. Sometimes, as sad as I am to admit this, they just don't.

And, though Travis County remains the defiant blue spot in the center of the state, Texas, of course, remains as backwards-assed as ever. I cannot stand the thought of staring at Rick Perry ad infinitum. (Do you KNOW there is not a term limit for governor in Texas? Do you KNOW THAT? He could be our governor UNTIL HE DIES. Worse yet...oh, Christ, he's considering national office. President Perry! Aaaaaaaah! My brain hurts!)

Tonight, though, we're singing "O Happy Day" over in central Austin. One day at a time. This is it. Straight ahead, and rest assured, you can be sure. But while you're here enjoy the view; keep on doing what you do. Hold on tight, bitches, we'll muddle through, one day at a time.

Post script of no relevance whatsoever: It's really friggin' hot for November, and, as usual, somehow manages to be humid while there is no rain whatsoever. Really, now, I moved here solely because of Kansas City winters (oh, and long-haired hippie boys,) but 91 degrees the week before my birthday? I could handle, say, 10 degrees cooler. If I just didn't have to have the fucking A.C. on in November, I'd be fine.

Oh, and you lurkers out there? Nobody's replying, but I know some of you are out there. You are warmly invited to delurk and greet. (However, you may not criticize my big butt. Or my lame late-night token blog posting crapola that I am putting forth in the effort to put some piece of shit piece of writing out there every day. Or anything. It's about the love, people!)

Lastly, some belated Halloween sugar for you, from the one obsessed with her naughty bits:


She doesn't look like trouble, does she? She's a princess! They're NEVER trouble.