I have talked to the duck more than I have talked to anybody else, today. And I worked, too.

Draw your own opinion of me from that above statement. Go ahead. I'll wait.

Oh, and here's another useful bit of information to help you come to a conclusion:

It was all baby-talk.

Anyway, today was mediocre, at best. Only one person starting flipping out and crying because she didn't have the proper shit to get a library card. One! I was totally disappointed, come quitting time.

You know, I'm really going to be eating my words tomorrow. Jesus will see to that. I know I'm joking, but does the son of God?

Whee. Fun with heresy!

So now I am eating lots and lots of candy, kind of feeling like I'm going to hurl all over the monitor. This means I should probably stop, but there's just so much candy. Good candy. Good vomitous candy. "Vomitous" is not a word, is it?

Voting Day is coming up and I'm not exactly anticipating it. My mom and I are going to the voting precinct around eleven and getting piss drunk before noon just doesn't appeal to me anymore.

Now I understand why some people choose not to vote. It makes you feel dirty in a bad way when you punch next to some guy's name only because he makes you feel less like ripping out your own spinal cord than the other guy. That's just not right. And forget about voting third party because, even though you know you did the right thing for you, you're still fucking with the percents and the winner would not have won by majority. That is, of course, considering that the race will be close. Which it is.

Fuck it. I'm loopy on the Claritin D.

Although, I did have fun today with all the vote-for-me calls. Every time I'd get that stupid message about how so-an-so is a saint and so-and-so eats live kittens, I'd yell "You just lost my vote, bitch" and hang up. I'm almost positive those automatic call machines were quacking in their circuits.

I should be the goddamn president. Maybe I can get Mad Dog to sponsor me in the 2020 election.

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