As I Wait...

 ...AS I wait for poll "watchers" and Trump supporters to show up at the polls to intimidate and harass voters, I recall that they are most likely at home nursing a dry cough that they "totally did not get from the supersp...*cough* Trump rally". I find this not so oddly comforting. Don't get me wrong, I don't wish death upon these people. Only profound and deep suffering. Profound. Deep. Near-death. I want them to meet Jesus and come back to tell morning show hosts about having enough time with him to find out he's trans.

I am reminded that I should stay calm and trust the American voter. I think of Charlie Brown and that doggone football.

Seeing some of the results makes me think maybe just a smidge of our voters were asleep at the wheel.

"OMG dad's camel is mostly ash and he's swerving right. Mom is asleep and she strapped me into this booster so tight I cant even reach my avocado toast or the frap I got with my iPhone in my pajama...."

That was her last tweet. Such a waste, she really had a promising but non-specific future in science/technology. Poor little Tamara.

If things don't go my way, I can't decide if I want to go autoerotic or via toaster/bathtub. Do I even have a toaster? I can get porn at least. Can I get the erection I need though? One that the first responders (pause for applause) will comment on? I mean, it is all about me, right? Hubris is still the theme of this year, isn't it? Or is it mass death and day drinking? Can't remember. Too drunk.