I can't watch that debate tonight. I've had a bad feeling for a week now, hoping that the damn thing would be canceled. It's a no-win situation for Biden and the Obama campaign. Unless Palin absolutely sinks—and the terms of the debate are rigged so that she's only got 90 seconds to swim around before time is called—I think she'll be declared the winner, just by showing up. Expectations are that low.
Did you know Alaska shares a border with Russia?
But whatever. The truly scary candidate is John McCain. Don't miss the Rolling Stone piece over on the left. We can't let him do to our country what he did to four—or was it five?—Navy planes. (Gives new meaning to the term du jour "bailout.")
I think I'd like to phone a friend!
Tomorrow night I shall be firmly ensconsed in a cottage on the Bonny Bonny Banks of Loch Lomond. No internet. No mobile reception. No Starbucks. No italics!
Just me and my true love.
O you’ll tak’ the high road and I’ll tak’ the low road
And I’ll be in Scotland afore ye
For me and my true love will ne-er meet again
On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond.
