monkey politics
January 24, 2007
Oddly enough, I have actually reached a point where I look forward to my morning protein shake. The shake I drink after my morning workout. Mmm…scrumptious whey. It’s almost like I am rewarding myself for a prosperous sweat session. Yes, that whey powder and milk can be very persuasive indeed.
And I also believe that it allows me to think much more clearly. In fact, since my heart rate has finally slowed to normal and I have a glass of whey and chocolate bliss at my side, I have realized that it is very difficult to do cardio to country music. Step aerobics and Brad Paisley should not be brought together under ANY circumstances. But, hey, I had just gotten out of bed and my brain was not yet fully functional, so I suppose I can afford to forgive myself this one time.
Which reminds me…
Have you ever woken (not going for proper grammar here, btw…) up from a dream and just known deep down inside your gut that it was important? I mean, you know, that you were supposed to garner some sort of zen wisdom from it?
I had one of those dreams last night. Or, at least, I THINK I did, but for the life of me I can’t remember a damned thing about it. My entire slate was wiped clean the second I opened my eyes. I just have this FEELING that I was blessed with some sort of godlike vision of the future. Unfortunately, it’s become like heat lightning. You know…when you see a flash in the summer sky in your peripheral vision but once you turn your head to look, nothing happens. Absolutely nothing. It’s just like that. After I woke up, I closed my eyes and just laid there for a good half hour. And nothing. Zilch. The gods are cruel. They give it to you one second and then rip it from you while you’re squatting with your metaphysical pants around your ankles.
I spent almost fourteen hours at that construction site yesterday. Not that I mind—it’s just that I run out of things to do after awhile and have to resort to talk radio for my entertainment. Speaking of which, I am SO sick of politics and politicians, I could SCREAM. In fact, I have. Several times. It’s just that no one can hear me while I sit in my car in the dead of night on that dark deserted road. But, no, don’t worry about me. They just leave the little white girl out there by herself. It’s okay. That’s progressive, man.
I’m joking, of course.
But anyway, I just wish this entire stupid election was OVER already because it makes people crazy and mean. I want to know exactly who is going to be in office fucking up our country for the next four years so that everyone will shut up about George Bush and his rhetorical state of the union garbage. It’s the same shit every year. Am I the ONLY one who’s noticed this? He says the EXACT SAME SHIT EVERY YEAR. And the only reason he brought up health care and fuel alternatives is because he wanted the Democrats to loosen their hold on his balls for awhile.
Which brings me to the war.
I have no personal stake in the war. No one in my family is over there. None of my friends are over there fucking camels and getting blown to pieces. I have no real opinion on the whole thing. Do I think it was necessary to start a war? No. But, hey, no one asked me…so we’re over there, and it looks like we’re going to be there for awhile. But I’m not saying I want the whole thing to fail either, because that would be retarded. If we’re spending all this money then something better fucking work.
I don’t really care for Bush at all, really, but to want this whole “mission” bullshit to fail just because I think George should be locked in a cage with monkeys and playing with his own poo-poo would be childish. And although I have been known to be quite childish in my day, I don’t make a habit of wanting our country to fall into ruins just because I dislike someone’s politics.
I have a frightening feeling that the next election will boil down to me voting for the lesser of two evils, because it seems as though all any of these people care about is winning votes. We’re losing our country, and the politicians and the media are all too stupid to realize this. But anyway…
On to more important things…
I spent a good portion of my long night at work reading Long Hot Summoning by Tanya Huff. It’s the third in a series called “The Keeper’s Chronicles” which I firmly believe that everyone with any sort of sense of humor should read. In fact, any book where the bad guys talk to themselves and use tote bags and gardenia-scented candles as weapons…and the good guys pal around with talking cats and actually engage in an argument with the enemy over a tampon should be required reading in any tenth grade English class.
Case closed.
