“What? You tellin’ me that Steve Jobs has gone Rasta?”
“That would be idud, dude. Which would be the first honest thing he’s said about his stuff in …”
“… the time it takes to get Vista to do anything. Except start a ten-minute reboot by itself when your deadline’s in five. Speaking of duds, dude. What’s gotten into you this time?”
“I had to start this conversation somehow, dude. People were wondering where we’d been at. All both of them. And the last thing I need is to give you an opportunity to tell me, again, what hay is for.”
“You mean, like horses? Or donkeys?”
“Yeah, like … HEY!!”
“Gotcha, dude. Next time, get a Mac. You’ll be quicker. Speaking of donkeys. I don’t suppose you voted today.”
“What?!? You mean I missed it? I thought that was next week. How much did Clinton win by?”
“A gazillion dollars. But no votes. Not yet. That’s next year, dude.”
“Says you. Says here they’re voting one hell of a lot sooner than that. In Iowa, and Nevada, and South Carolina. Go to the polls and bring your New Year’s hangover. In New Hampshire, they ain’t set the date yet. Dudes there would have you going to the polls and bringing your Turkey Day hangover if they could. Except that might get in the way of Christmas shopping. But nobody’s got any money for Christmas gifts this year, so I don’t know what they’re worried about. By the time we get to next year, dude, it’ll all be over but the shoutin’.”
“It is all over but the shoutin’. Unless Hillary drops dead, or screams at a campaign rally, or somethin’. All we get to do is ratify the choice of the big donors.”
“Yeah, dude. You’d know somethin’ about that, wouldn’t you?”
– O Ceallaigh
Copyright © 2007 Felloffatruck Publications. All wrongs deplored.
All opinions are mine as a private citizen.