So I’m sitting around the office Friday waiting for Barack Obama to send me a text message so I can draw a cartoon. I wait and I wait and I wait. I finally get a text around 10:00 pm and it’s not Obama, it’s a friend in a sketchy bar and she’s scared because I’m not there to protect her…and I think she wanted somebody to buy her shots. Fine, nothing’s going on in my office or my head so I meet her and come back to work…still nothing on the Veep front. I go to bed around 3:30 am Saturday morning and wake to discover it’s Biden (which we all knew it was because the leaks were coming out). I return to the office around 1:00 pm on Saturday and I whip this out. This won’t win me a Pulitzer but I did get one compliment on it today so I’m cool with it and it’s time to move on to the next thing.
Oh, and I never got any stinking Obama text. Did they realize I’m not really a supporter and just signed up for the text so I can be cool enough to tell people "so Obama texted me…"? Not having a text from Obama is like your dog refusing to play with you. That guy will text anybody.
Remember pep rallies when you were a kid? Imagine doing that for four days. The media builds up these political conventions when all it really is is four days of speeches. What else are they going to do? NOTHING!!! It’s four days of speeches and guess what…some stations are going to provide you with every second of it. I am a political geek but I really don’t want to hear four days of speeches by a bunch of jerk heads who all share the same opinion. They should combine the conventions. Alternate speakers with each party then we’d have more than just cheering. We’d have booing, hissing, cursing and delegates throwing things at each other. It’s be great.
Dave Smalley walked by my office this morning to inform me we have a winged guest camping right outside my office door. I asked if it was a bat but no. It’s a giant monster cockroach. I wish it was a bat. Seriously, this thing is like Rodan. Ok, maybe it’s only about an inch and a half long but I don’t care. I do not like cockroaches. I used to work in a zoo and I used to feed rats to Gaboon Vipers, hand tame Boa Constrictors, held alligators at bay with broom sticks and once had a tarantula run up a shirt sleeve. But I seriously, seriously, seriously do not like roaches. When I was 17 I worked in a grocery store and a roach ran up my pants leg…which really sucked because nobody knew what was going on or why the bag boy was suddenly tearing his pants off at the check out line (this was back in the day when grocery stores provided teenagers to carry your groceries to your car…for months after the roach incident, customers would request a bag boy with pants). This was 1983 Louisiana where the usual reference to such youthful behavior was "that boy’s not right".
I digress. This disease carrying monster is just sitting there. I don’t know what he wants. Maybe he’s dead. I don’t know and I’m not going to touch or poke him with anything to find out (I don’t want to anger him). If you don’t see me for a few days then you know I’m pinned down. And if you see me running down the street without pants that it’s probaby a roach related incident….and that boy’s not right.