"Can I have this muffin?"

My mom was a George Carlin fan. I didn't know anybody's mom was a George Carlin fan. Irregardless of the 10-page behemoth that lay before me, I'm at a very good place in my life right now. Just days ago I found out that my apartment number is #135. Building 1, floor 3. I won't have anyone above me, but those two days moving in and moving out will most assuredly be a pain in the hindquarters. Now this is just one of those things where I pretend that people care to read "Dear diary, today I woke up and had a bagel. It was good. I like bagels. Then I went to school. I was bored during class and my mind drifted" Out of the thirty some books on my bookshelf, I've completely read less than five of them. This is nothing but shameful on my part. I kinda want to read "The Audacity of Hope" to gear up for what the next eight years is gonna look like. The Presidential campaign of Barack Obama is the most brilliantly run campaign in the last 25 years of American politics. He'll win, but I would rather he not. Not because he's a secret Muslim negro or because he didn't put his hand over his heart one time or because his wife hates white people or because he doesn't wear a flag lapel pin or because he didn't serve in the military. I'd rather him not because I, along with several other people, like money and would like to keep the money I earn and spend it, save it, tithe it, and donate it as I see fit. Barack Obama thinks me having more money than somebody else is bad. Barack Obama wants the guy who doesn't have as much money as I do to have as much as I do. This will be another Presidency of gross imcompetence but this time it's gonna be bathed in the sheen of mass media skeet-juice and the reflexive racial gestapo and ther American public, ill-informed as they are, will buy into the idea that a ham sandwich would be a more worthy successor to the office than Cowboy George. I say the last eight years and the next eight years are gonna be neck and neck.