So, Bush might have won. And Gore might have won. Probably Bush won, but the future stability of the world is in the hands of 1,000 people in Florida. And you know how the old saying goes: a Bush in your hand is worth two birds in Florida.
Or something. Fuck I'm hungover.
Aaron and Dan Rather and I sat around my living room last night discussing the elections. And shrieking. And running around. And drinking ourselves sick on Bully Hill Goat wine and Bailey's-coffee. Well, Dan Rather sort of abstained from the festivities, but he cracked a lot of stupid jokes to keep the party going.
And on it went, deep into the night, or at least until 2 or 2.30 in the morning. When Dan Rather announced that Bush had won, the party was over, and Aaron and I soberly (or, well... maybe not very soberly at all), stared, shocked and horrified, at our goodbuddy Dan, as though he'd just announced that there were dead people stacked on top of each other in my attic.
That signaled an end to Aaron's and my election party, despite the fact that Florida STILL hasn't made up its mind. The very idea that George W. Bush could have won the presidency was so shocking to us that it kind of ruined everything. Even if Gore gets Florida at this point, I think the initial shock that Bush was CLOSE to winning kind of ruined our faith in humanity.
(No offense to my Republican friends, of course... I know I have at least one, and while I don't understand, it doesn't really make much of a difference to me, and I'm not going to argue politics with anybody unless you try founding the Fascist Farmers For Cheddar Cheese party, in which case I'll probably just giggle...)
But until the trouble began, the party was tons o' fun, and I will leave you with some excerpts of the transcript of last night's politics and debauchery...
"I'm ALL for animal rights. Until I get hungry." --Aaron, stuffing barbeque ribs into his mouth at an alarming rate.
"Give me liberty, or give me a pizza." --Helena, unsuccessfully trying to remember New Hampshire's state slogan, "live free or die."
"Dude, kids aren't precious. Kids are smelly." --Aaron's stance on the future of the world.
"I like to touch my penis." --Aaron, watching Hillary Clinton.
"Dude, I gotta ask you an important question... What about Idaho?"
"You're not a ho!"
--Helena and Aaron, proving once and for all that they're complete fucking morons.
"Dude, if Lucifer ran for Congress, we'd be his commentators..." --Aaron's future career-goals.
"You think they're doing this for ratings?" --either Helena or Aaron, re: Florida taking fucking forever to recount their votes.
"Wow, I bet she tastes like fruits. Like pears. Or kiwis." --Aaron, either falling madly in love with a female news anchor, or demonstrating a vitamin-C deficiency.
"Would you have buttsex with Ralph Nader?"
"Yeah, dude, I wouldn't be able to shit for a week."
--Aaron and Helena, no comment.
"YOU ATE ALL THE CORNBREAD, YOU FUCKING PIG!" --Helena, looking for something to soak up some of the alcohol in her stomach.
"Dude, what's his middle name?"
"W."
--Helena and Aaron's knowledge of the real issues.
"If I slept with people for votes, would that be the same as sleeping with them for money?" --Aaron further speculates about his career-goals.
"How is that different from your own vaginal debris?" --Helena to Aaron, and I have absolutely NO idea what I was talking about.
"Do you believe in God?"
"Not if Bush wins."
--Helena and Aaron, trying to decide whether praying would be a good idea (we decided against it, but we did sing some amazing renditions of black spirituals and Jewish lullabies, figuring we could influence minorities into voting for Gore, although I'm certain we would have insulted ANYONE else who'd been around... When we ran out of multicultural knowledge, which was pretty quick, because we were trashed, we began singing stuff from "Fiddler on the Roof.")
"If Gore pulls this off, I will shit a brick. Right there in your living room."
"Dude, if you have to shit, shit in Peter's room."
--Aaron and Helena, discussing Aaron's more pressing issues.
For about an hour's worth of election-party, the notebook is blank and so is my memory.
I remember going to Norman's house, discussing The Revolution (WHAT revolution, you ask? If you have to ask, you can't be in it...) and Ralph Nader as a sex symbol. I think we've agreed that I can sleep with Ralphie if Norman can sleep with Brittany Spears. It's a deal. I remember Norman calling George W. a "frat boy motherfucker" or something, and I remember thinking that Barbara Bush is pretty nasty. I remember trying very hard not to throw up, and having to chew on my lip and pinch my fingers. I remember making some mad love, and drinking about five cups of hot water, and that's about all I remember. I think I must have fallen asleep.
It's the next day. No decision yet. It's looking like either Gore or Bush could be the next president -- it's that close.
I don't feel good.
Love,
~Helena*
"I'm horny." --Aaron, re: Tipper.