It’s been raining for so long in Southwest Florida that Noah decided to move out of the area. Weather is something you can’t do a damned thing to change, so barking about it doesn’t do any good — other than allowing me to vent my frustration due to the disruption of the Geezer’s and my daily routine. I’ve got cabin fever so bad I’d like to scratch my paws in the kitty litter box just to feel dirt under my paw pads. Yuk!!
The Geezer is restless, too. He keeps sighing heavily, kind of like a young boy who’s not quite tall enough to look through the peep hole into the girl’s shower. The old boy relies on television to amuse him when he can’t go outside. Thank goodness for the Olympics! After a while one does get bored even with the intricacies of under-water basket weaving, bull-shit stacking, and three man baby buggy racing. Still, if the Olympics hadn’t been televised there wouldn’t have been a break from “Circ de Can-did-iots.”
Poor old Geezer! He’s suffering from presidential politics fatigue. He’s been searching for something to do other than watch TV, but habit drives him back to the remote. Every time the tube lights up, the two court jesters, Obama and McCain, have their faces leering at you like two blood-starved vampires. I’m sure the Geezer would have blown several gaskets by now, if it wasn’t for Michael Phelps.
I think he even gave up on Fox News when he sent them an email asking them to do a poll on how many people weren’t satisfied with either candidate or major party. Of course, they did nothing. He keep’s mumbling it was stupid to send an email to someone that has a bird in the cockfight. Fair and Balanced? I’m having a Santa moment, ho-ho-ho-ho.
He’s found some things to keep busy. The Geezer downloaded both Obama’s and McCain’s pictures and set them up on the dart board with their mouths as the bull’s eye. The letter he wrote to Charmin suggesting they print Obama and McCain’s portrait on each sheet of toilet paper should be a big sale booster and help the economy. Another thing he’s done is paste photos of Osama and Mex on a large desk top calendar, their likenesses decorated with clown make-up, and he’s indicated the number of each day left before “Circ de Can-did-iots” ends the first Tuesday in November.
There were several words written on that magical election day calendar square. I’d never seen them before so I asked, “Geezer, what’s that say?” Pointing my paw at the phrase I added, “I’ve never seen those words before.”
The Geezer didn’t smile as he said, “It says, brush up on speaking Russian. Sandy, it’s written in that language.”
“Why write that on election day, Geezer?”
“By then we ought to be split enough for Putin to act on what he already sees. Divided like we are, we’re as capable of defending ourselves as a drunk four-year-old with a fractured leg, a rubber crutch, and a broken BB gun.”