I’ve been watching the Republican convention this week. A friend asked me, “Hey Mojo, how do you keep doing it – night after night?”
I confess - there have been moments when I needed to be physically restrained from grabbing my baseball bat and turning the TV into an exploding smoke-ball. Hardly anything gets me off the sofa once I’m there, but this Republican stuff gets me all riled up. Still, I hang on. “Know thine enemy.” This is what they look like:
As much as I hate the whole stinking shitpile of absurd nonsense, I know that this is God’s will for me to see it through to the end. The Republicans would have you believe that God speaks only to them, and that simply is not the case. God is a non-partisan booming voice in my head, and according to Him, I am to watch the Republican convention and not let my head launch off of my neck, as if it were rocket propelled. Sure is tempting, but no. That’s not my path. I am here to observe and form opinions, and to find new and exciting ways to use the words “boring as fuck”, "shameless liebags" and "obnoxious crapheads" in real sentences.
There is only one more night of the convention left. Up next? Sarah’s grandfather, Grampy, will tell war stories and making embarrassing noises. Everyone is nice about it, and they have cake afterwards. Except for Grampy, who will enjoy a delicious glass of Metamucil. Bottoms up, sir.
If I am not here tomorrow, it means that Satan took over and I set my head on fire. Wish me luck!
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