Learn all about this completely real candidate for the highest office in our most alcoholiest state right here.

After spending quite a few extra minutes and strained shoulders the last few trips trying to determine if I am grabbing the right suitcase off the belt, I really want one of these stickers. I just can’t decide which one.

There are many others like it, but this one is mine.

You worth my while.
You Rambo musical.
I like you style.

This is like every “relationship” I’ve ever had crammed in to three minutes. I’m almost old enough that I’m off the table for any woman, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to it a little.

Saturday nights. As I’m not the sort of person a woman wants to be with, at least as far as my last “girlfriend’s” diary explained, I need to resign myself to other things. Like documentaries.

Never a “good” idea, but now that I’m too old to be much of anything but a bald Andy Rooney, I’m not even going to bother trying anymore. Cruising youtube, I came across this video of a woman who likes to sing. She has a rather large following apparently, and it’s little wonder why. As I watch it, however, I can’t stop giggling. I hate that I live in a world where I want to piss on earnestness. And boobs.

Tarantino? Coppola? No. These quizes are making me more depressed than the transgendered ladies they keep matching me with.