T-Minus 59

There's 60 days left on our warranty. For the next 60 days, as bad as it is, we know what we're getting in Washington. Mispronunciation, the danger of pretzels now that it's football season, and a good ol' boy that's good ol' clueless.

We have 60 days 'til we find out what happens next.

It appears I'm vaguely obsessed with this; or rather, with the absurdity of what comes out under a deadline like this. So after incessantly interrupting my coworkers to tell them Bristol's baby daddy is a hottie and more people watched Obama than watched some eps of American Idol, I thought I'd just put it all here, where there's a more democratic color scheme.

Read, admire Levi, and think about voting for everyone's favorite long-legged mac daddy.