Moonbats and Asshats were certainly rife on Super Tuesday. 

     For weeks to come, we’ll keep hearing political commentary from people who have about as much grasp on politics as Pope does on WWII History. 
     *cough*

     As I was voting with a change of Address and voting venue, I was at the polls for quite a while watching and listening to people.  It’s an adamantly blue-collar, pro-union district, so naturally there are a lot of blue voters, especially of the “Damn Yankee!” variety — the type who get “Damn” attached to the beginning of their titles because they won’t go home.  *snicker*
     So I began to take notes of some of the conversations I overheard while waiting…

“What do you mean Democrat or Republican?  How should I know?  I wanna vote for Obama.  Is he a Republican or a Democrat?”

     Words cannot begin to describe my disdain for this particular style of voting.  As surely as there’s lonely brain cell left to rattle around in a nearly empty skull, you should know something so basic about the person you’re giving your support to run the country.

“Oh, god, you know I’m a Democrat.  Republicans are stupid.  Hey, do I have to sign my name here where it says?”

     I thought to myself, “No, just put an X, dipshit.”

“The only reason you won’t support Cinton is because you’re a man!  I am sick to death of all the latent misogyny by the patriarchal anti-Clinton camp!”

     No, apparently she wasn’t quite “sick to death,” as I could still hear her.  It’s funny to me how it never occurrs to some people that it’s Hillary-bashing, not Woman-bashing.  Which brings me to next part:

“You won’t vote for Obama ’cause you’re a racist!”

     Umm … Ok.  Of course, the same guy came out and said:

“Man, I voted for Hillary.”

     *shakes head*  So, uhh… He’s a racist?  And proud of it?

     Which brings up another:

“I scrolled to Obama and hit Cast Ballot.  And the screen came up and said ‘Thank you for your vote.’  I think I messed up.  Can I do it again?  No?  Man, you all are racist!”

     Ya know… I just… How the… Why… *shakes head*

     On a similar note:

“Uh, it says to press the Enter button.  Is that the big green one that says Enter?”

     I thought about saying, “Nah, it’s the big red one that says, ‘Cast Ballot,'” but since the last guy who made that mistake nearly went postal, I decided to just stand there and shake my head a while longer…

     Finally, with my Failsafe paperwork approved, I was able to rejoin the line and make my way up to the registry official.
     “Democrat or Republican?” the official asked the guy in front of me.
     “Republican,” he whispered as quietly as possible.
     “REPUBLICAN?” the official yelled.
     “Uh, yeah, yeah,” he whispered, glancing nervously towards the jeers from around him.
     He signed his name.  He walked, with an, “Excuse me,” through the crowd and over to the Voting Booths.  He cast his vote.  He walked out.

     When it was my turn, I did the same.

     But I still wonder where all the animosity comes from.

     If having different opinions is so bad, then why bother voting at all?

     …but I do need a vacation with my rv decals amazon before indenturing myself into 9-5 servitude.  Wherever shall I go?

I was planning a beautiful trip going camping with my new set of waterproof tents.

     Following up on the previous four lessons, Donnie takes us through yet another lesson in You Suck at Photoshop #5.

     Yeah, and I think we’ve been there at least once…

It obvious to me that a bunch of trained monkeys devised the way we vote.  There is a certain about of space you must be away from the polling place to complain, compare, or contrast what exactly you are voting on.  You must be said distance away from the other constituent while they cast their ballots.  Last, but not least, you must stand in this bread line to vote for the asshole that you didn’t want to see in office anyway.  After all, your candidate didn’t have the staying power to go all the way.  He came, he went, and subsequently went to sleep, just like the dyke’s idea of a stereotypical man (which includes Hitlery, since you know with socialist ideas like that she has to be hung like a moose.)

By this same rationale the voting process is no better that the crappy politicians we flock to elect every chance we get.  Simply put we desire the change they promise.  Meanwhile they will never own up to the fact that they can’t change everything we would like.  Surely, we may be able to try and elect at the very least someone who won’t screw the country up too bad or try to appear electable for monetary gain.

With that said, I am starting to wonder if I should have just let go of my civic duty and stayed home, but I digress.

Every so often, there comes a time when something is just slightly irritating enough to be a tongue-punch in the old backdoor, Mind you not in the kinky variety of “ooh, please sir…  May I…  I need some more!”  Rather in the “Eww, gross!”  I feel weird when I am a propositioned by the seedy old man at the rest stop sort of way; yes, that is how I feel when people with the help of God still can’t seem to understand what I am saying.  For crying out loud, I speak the same English that they do.  It can’t be this difficult.

I specifically said to someone “I can’t do anything with those images, my lab won’t let me.”  However they still went on to tell me that I could indeed do so if I performed said mentioned set of magic tricks while holding an emasculated monkey doing the can-can on its head.  To which I said, “Perhaps you didn’t hear me correctly, I cannot do anything to those images.  The proprietary software won’t register the images as actually there if I do that.”

For a reason unannounced to anyone but the other person and God himself, (sorry for Hitlery supporters, but God has to be masculine as no woman would let the world get this far,) this person still demanded that I be able to make changes to the images anyways.  Oh well, I guess that will be the last time I try to ask a so-called colleague (who probably couldn’t photograph their way out of paper bag,) for an opinion about work in the same field.  They don’t spend any money on work you do for them anyhow.

(Where Bright Red = “Oh, HELL no!” and Bright Green = “For shizzle”)

     Note there are no bright greens. 

     ’nuff said.

Note: Adapted from MSNBC’s Candidates vs. Issues Matrix