Liveblogging Part I: The Pre-Debate Electoral Map Masturbatorium
Tuesday, October 7th, 2008
To your left is the shack where her editor spent her “vacation,” getting harassed by banana slugs and watching the VP debate in a bar full of scratch-off Lotto ticket addicts who muttered angry things about “Barack HUSSEIN Obama” on their way out. (Kidding! That is another one of John McCain’s eleventy billion subprime properties, now on sale in exchange for a sack of speckled beans.) Anyhow now we are back, rested and refreshed! We hear there is some sort of a talky talky with whatsisface, Hussein, and the little angry man. What magical maps is John King drawing at this very moment to show us how Poverty will finally triumph over Racism this electoral cycle? MORE »
To your left is the shack where her editor spent her “vacation,” getting harassed by banana slugs and watching the VP debate in a bar full of scratch-off Lotto ticket addicts who muttered angry things about “Barack HUSSEIN Obama” on their way out. (Kidding! That is another one of John McCain’s eleventy billion subprime properties, now on sale in exchange for a sack of speckled beans.) Anyhow now we are back, rested and refreshed! We hear there is some sort of a talky talky with whatsisface, Hussein, and the little angry man. What magical maps is John King drawing at this very moment to show us how Poverty will finally triumph over Racism this electoral cycle? MORE »
PBS anchor Gwen Ifill, who will host Thursday’s debate between Joe Biden and Sarah Palin, purportedly broke her ankle “after tripping and falling down stairs at her home last night.” Oh well what a timely “accident,” and what a likely “story,” which sounds nothing like “intimidation.” CAN SOMEONE then, maybe, explain the letter found next to Ifill’s ruined body that read “no forrin polisy gotcha quesschins,” written in virgin goat blood and signed by “Thteve Thchmidt”? [
Uhh, that’s your terrible & presiding president, “George,” with the sparkles. What’s his importance tonight. No one knows. No one knows why George Bush isn’t LOCKING THIS CRAP UP for Barry Obama. Who won this debate? Let’s see what the teevee pundits say, on CNN. Once it ends which will be never. 
Jim Lehrer, you garish little Skittle whore! What kind of jacket is THAT? Slut slut slut Jim Lehrer is a slut. Oh god this debate is boring, we realized during our last moment of clarity. Time to open the Schlitz! Huh? Who are you people anyway. (
That’s WALNUTS! after downing his fifteen nightly Ambien. What a nut. But, he showed up for tonight’s debate, and that’s more than he was planning on yesterday! So give him credit HE WAS IN THE WAR FOR CHRIST’S SAKE JESUS. Anyway: tonight’s debate is about race. No. Foreign policy… of race? we have four 40s for the night but still have some vague idea of what’s going on at the moment. Let’s watch, uh, 
Here is a brilliant switcheroo! John McCain proposes delaying his debate if he has not singlehandedly resolved America’s financial crisis by tomorrow, so that way he and Barack Obama can debate next Thursday — the night when Sarah Palin and Joe Biden were set to debate. And then once they’ve rescheduled the Palin/Biden debate, John McCain can pull another crazy stunt — announcing his own daughter is fake pregnant, maybe, or firing Ruth Bader Ginsburg, or refusing to appear in public in anything but a glittering leotard — and everyone will forget all about this Palin nut and how she withers under intense questioning by Katie freaking Couric. John McCain will personally bomb North Korea in an ancient fighter plane with a Muppet as his co-pilot before he allows Sarah Palin to debate anything besides a goldfish. A dead goldfish. [
Hoorah the first debate is Friday, in Confederate Mississippi! Will the plantation owners even let Barack Obama onto the debate stage, or will he have to shout his answers from the balcony? That would be sure to spark a national conversation about race, between no one. But! We’ll see. This week, however, 
Someone just sent us this 
Last night, John McCain showed Barack Obama how it’s done when it comes to speechifying: You park yourself in an underground bunker, pack the house with 80-year-old Bitters, and blink awkwardly in front of a vomitous green screen while declaring “that’s not change you can believe in.” Emboldened by that 