None of my usual election day snark this year. Not with the sorry-ass shape this country's in.
Get out there and vote, people.
I was talking to someone on Saturday night about someone rich who had disappeared in a suspected plane crash at some in the past year or so, but I couldn't come up with a name because I was drunk as balls.
The person to whom I was referring was Steve Fossett.
I unfortunately can't remember who I was discussing this with, because balls. Drunk as. But it was Saturday night at Jason and Celeste's bitchin' Halloween party, so whoever it was will probably read this.
Off the grid until tomorrow morning. I expect events shall transpire in my absence.