So, I went out and voted. Who knew that my polling place was a block away? Not me! Well, I found out rather quickly after I checked online, and saw that straight line right to it.
Sweet!
As we all know, it’s a beautiful day out there … so being able to walk to vote was awesome.
Grandma really enjoys Big Peckers?
While waiting in line (and yes, there was a line in my tiny neighborhood), I saw an elderly woman wearing a “Big Peckers” t-shirt, and for some reason, I ALMOST just burst out laughing. Mentally, I was pointing and yelling, “O RLY?” Good thing I wasn’t drinking beforehand, otherwise it may have happened.
In the voting booth, I did something I never thought I’d ever have to do — voted third party. Why? Because both presidential candidates are so infinitely useless that I couldn’t pick the lesser evil. And I can’t vote on ideological principles, because both parties annoy me on those grounds. So, I went with the only route available — just to register my objection to both idiots.
And the voting went on and on.
The new John Murtha?
It was faily painless — though I was mad that I couldn’t NOT vote for Murtha, despite the pleads of my friends (and my apologies on that point). As long as we live in a system where pork is a flyin’, he needs to be there to collect our share of bacon. I can’t vote for some guy who moved to the area JUST to try and unseat him. That’s retarded. It was similar to one of the (many, many reasons) that I hated Santorum — Rick may have had an address in Penn Hills, but he sure as hell didn’t live there, his kids didn’t go to school there, so he had no vested interest in helping the people there. God, I can’t believe that anger is still lingering. Well, maybe I can. He was always just a little too polished to not be some kind of deviant freak. But at least when it comes to Murtha, I can still hop in the General Lee and jump broken down bridges that PennDOT swears they’re going to fix in the next 50 years. And if we’re all rednecks, does that mean that he’s Boss Hogg?
(Side note: I’m still waiting for the day that Rick Santorum is busted for downloading child porn or setting up a meeting with a police officer that he thinks is a 14-year-old that he met in a chatroom. Mark my words, it’s going to happen — and when it does, the beer is on me.)
So, I left the polls smiling, knowing that I got to register my beef against Nimrod 1 and Nimrod 2, and that my pick has no chance of winning. I did my duty and voted in the most useless gesture that I could possibly make in this very important election.
If her dog were human, he'd be doing an awful lot of this.
On the walk home (the beauty of the fall hills making my smile even bigger ), I saw the crazed terrier lady who always seems to be out walking her Scotty. If she were a Catholic saint, I swear she would be called “Our Lady of the Perpetual Walking Scotty.” Internally, I began to cry, because surely she, being the one who cornered me months ago to tell me all about her Scotty and how unfriendly he is because she always had beagles and beagles love everyone but not Scotties no they loathe all creatures — she will definitely trap me again and tell me all about her walking rug cleaner’s unfriendliness and harsh my cool bonus day buzz.
But no! She gave me a gentle smile and hello, told me it felt like summer outside — and that was it. Even the Scotty of the Perpetual Walk cruised on by, not even bothering with a sniff in my direction.
My!
I get to my door, and out drops a Jehova’s Witness propaganda booklet. Wait, my going out to vote means I didn’t have to break out the broom and shoo the Jehova’s Witnesses off my porch! SCORE!
Let’s hope tonight goes just as smoothly — but if this is how the gods reward voting, I’m diggin’ it.
Sheep the Moon 