Denial is bliss
From your blogtress's good friend, Deep South (who had the misfortune of lending his well-muscled form to one of your Webwench's many ill-planned moves between apartments), comes this:
As of today, November 3, 2004, my life is proceeding along happily with the assumption that President Bartlett (a.k.a. Martin Sheen) retains control of the White House. I can rest assured that he will use force abroad only as a last resort, that he will attempt to unite the country, that he will maintain a balanced budget, and that he is acutely aware of history and the true dynamics that drive the world.
I will get my news only from NBC on Wednesdays, at 9:00-10:00 p.m.
Denial is bliss.
Deep goes on to rhetorically ask whether reality could really be that much worse than his alternate televised universe, only to arrive at the conclusion that, well, it could--and probably would--be, but only should he wish to marry the man of his dreams ("I'd have to FIND one first, right?" he adds), drive a gas-guzzling car, or:
* I didn't want my grandchildren to pay off a multi-trillion dollar debt
[but since I don't have any grandkids, what the hey?]
* I get on Ashcroft's radar
* I breathe the air
Hey, Deep, word is that Ashcroft's resigning, so there's one off your list. And just hold your breath, would ya?
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