I wish I could have been teary eyed. I’m alone in Tucson while my family is in Phoenix. I couldn’t get giggly while watching the idiot box yelling at the screen like my grandfather on Thanksgiving Day, maybe passing something along to her so she wouldn’t looked bored enough fake an orgasm. Or pointing at the television with my son telling him that this is a day that you’ll probably remember because it’s going to be a day the world remembers. It’s a day that we got something with an IQ higher than 80 to be the president.
Instead, I’m here with my cat. Who couldn’t care less who won the election as long as I’m able to scratcher her ears. She’ll claw my crotch again, emasculating me with her diamond cutting claws. It’s just her and I.