Well, here we go.

[kayakjohnny]

See?


I told you.


Now what?


No link yet.

[Political_Junkie]

1. You were right.

I should have known. My bad.

[Schema Thing]

2. Why isn't this in breaking news?

[Pirate Smile]

4. I checked CNN.com. It must be this headline: "Meow! 729 cats show off"

[Deja Q]

3. So THAT'S why the 2008 elections were canceled!

And 2006... and 2004... and 2002... :scared:

[Edweird]

5. Again?

[kayakjohnny]

6. I'm afraid so. We talked about this, you know.

[Catshrink]

7. Is Project X ready for roll out?

I have my secret decoder ring, my faithful wiener dog, and my turkey leftovers so I'm ready for deployment. Waiting for further instructions.

[kayakjohnny]

8. Affirmative, as long as weiner dog and turkey leftovers don't serve concurrent purposes.

[xenussister]

14. I'm waiting for Matthew Broderick and Helen Hunt

and the cute chimps.

[gratuitous]

9. Why are you getting your information from those jerks?

Shows what you know.

[kayakjohnny]

10. That's just what I was told. I had no way of verifying. Sorry.

[NYC_SKP]

11. You need to let it go...

The primaries are over! :hi:

[kayakjohnny]

12. Ha! Good one.....

[dweller]

13. same old same old

did you think it would be different?

nothing changes but the faces observing the same details as anew.
All the world is a stage, we are but bit actors rehearsing tired lines.

The Actor

Say you were the kid who could not sleep
In the new house in the north, with the wind
Flapping roof shingles, window banging softly
And the tub humming for rain, the outside soft with moon,
And the man in the door looking into that softness--

Would you not follow? Out to the road
To hunch along the dark fringe as he walks
In a trance through the years rising like sand,
Falling back to leave him quickened
With each step, until he finds the old road
Leading to a concrete slab poured and forgot
By someone with a cottage in his head.

You crouch in fern and northern orchids.
He climbs into the gray square,
Bows to the footweeds, and begins
A monologue. As he intones the old names,
The man he was lives with friends
In the shape of bulbs in the night
And posters curling in basements.

You are afraid of him, for yourself,
For all those players who rehearse their lines
In the trees beyond the city. As he
Storms with mad verse the indifferent air,
Something like night moves through the weeds.
-Thomas Snapp

adieu,
dp

[Midlodemocrat]

15. Call Congress! RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!!!!