Something's Coming

Well, the tension is all set now.

In, hopefully, less then 24-hours, we'll know who our next President is going to be.

God, I hope it's less than 24-hours, and that we don't get into a retro 2000 scene, that Obama, right out of the gate, as soon as possible, after the first polls close, starts cleaning the clock of the Dead Campaign Express.

Especially after today.

Mommy Moose saved some her best for the last day on the stump, spraying her lies and smears most viciously.

The Republicans, led by their California branch, worked their slime as well, filing a charge with the FEC, to rap Obama for using his Campaign plane to visit his ailing grandmother, who today, it was announced, passed away.

What do they call this, Desperate Compassion?

If McKKKain had any class, he'd either publically state for the charge to be withdrawn, or that he would have his wife pay whatever the cost was for the trip

So, as you gird your loins for the barrage of talking heads tomorrow, passing off anxiety attacks for commentary, repeating the same stale hash they have been for the past number of weeks and months, the donut eaters interpreting a Autumn afternoon breeze as some tell-tale sign that it will be a good night for the Stumblin' Fly Boy, let us hope that we don't have the greatest freak of all-time, that all the polls are wrong, and Obama, as well as the down-ticket contenders, crushes the GOP into oblivion.

Here's a little something to work off that tension with.

Sing along, sing loudly!

West Side Story-Something's Coming