Winding up to wind down and completely wound up. Well, it appears as if OT has utterly dried up in my company, as well as planning periods for those of us, like me, who are ostensibly in charge of the branches we work at. It might just be the ideal moment to jump off the Nova boat, if it weren't for the gadloads of money they throw at me for flapping my jaw - relative to teaching in Thailand of course. I think I've got everything pretty much cleared up minus a couple things to be sold, thrown out or given away. The social calendar is really starting to fill. In fact, I got a bit of a surprise visit from Molly Fitzpatrick the other day. She was returning from Southeast Asia where she was doing some work related to a travel agency she works for. Living at home in Keene, she was bemoaning life in the US a bit, which always makes me feel justified in my choice not to return and take up my rightful place as an entry level insurance salesman, or junior department manager at Walmart. Plus, Molly assures me that all Americans are just as discontent as their televisions and print publications tell them they should be. Actually, now that I understand and can read Japanese, the very same thing could happen to me, so it must be the ideal moment to haul my ass out of here and to some place where three square is a worthy accomplishment.

Elated by W’s victory I decided to take the day off work; it
‘s my company after all, I’ll do as I please. Turning the key in the ignition, I rev the engine of my Suburban several times in a symbolic gesture to those who would cripple America’s oil supply. Although I have the time and the McDonald’s is not crowded, I opt out of eating in. Instead I order my Big Mac Super-Sized Meal via the drive-thru (eating while driving is a true act of Patriotism and I’ll do anything American on this fine day). After washing down the burger and fries with one of those gargantuan Cokes that resemble a carton more than cup I find a parking space on the main street. A shelter-impaired individual sits on the street with an empty Starbuck’s coffee cup full of change. I’m feeling so good Junior’s back in office that I give the man a swift kick to the face (instead of the ass where he needs it) and grab his cup of change, thereby enabling him to reclaim his financial independence, rather than leeching of the system. In what could only be described as serenedipiditious coincidence I notice the meter has expired on a parking space in which sits a Mercedes E class. Using my newly acquired change, I fill the meter and help out the unfortunate owner of such a fine piece of engineering (albeit not American, but our unknown driver is no doubt Republican, so I forgive this). In a celebratory mood, I make my way into Mike’s Gun Emporium and treat myself to a little number that I’ve had my eye on since the assault rifle ban ended last month. It’s an AR15 with telescoping stock, a 30 round magazine and bayonet fix. Thanks to my man George I can finally get my hands on this little guy. Back into the Suburban, I aim it homewards. On the way, I spot two long-faced liberals pulling up Kerry/Edwards signs. I roll down my window and pump several rounds into the damn Democrats. The Bible tells me ‘Thou shall not kill’, but truly these guys did not love America. At home I turn on my Direct TV to further revel in the win. Tonight I will make love to my wife for the first time in months (so what if she’s overweight, more than half of the population is, which is just about the same percentage of people who got GWB back in office). My wife loves America and so do I. We will fall asleep, ensconced in our Martha Stewart (BTW, insider trading isn’t such a big deal IMO) bedspread that is in the design of Old Glory, the American Flag. I will pray to the Lord thanking him for once again putting Bush/Cheney in the White House where they belong. God Bless America.