rock the vote (rock the vote baby)

Man, it sho was fun voting today. I love it.

Why is it, whenever I go vote, there’s always a sourpuss in line either right in front of or right behind me? Today it was a woman. About 45 (going on crotchety). Wearing a quilted sweater, high-waisted-high-water jeans, big fluffy white socks, Keds, soccer mom non-lesbian mullet. She was bitching about how long it was taking to check in. The two people in front of me were easily in their 80s, and the entire standing-in-line experience took less than 10 minutes. Get over yourself, honey. I kept looking at her when she spoke, so she’d know I heard her, but I didn’t respond. I wonder if that creeped her out at all? Guess not because she kept flapping her mouth and repeating her boring bullshit.

When you think about life’s inconveniences, having to stand in line for less than 10 minutes during beautiful weather outside the Cub Scout house…there are worse things.

And there are male versions of vest woman. They usually look kind of like John Goodman’s character in Big Lebowski – hefty, big glasses, sweaty, just standing up makes them breathe heavy. They look like they might have the necessary equipment to kidnap someone stashed in the trunk of their car. Just in case.

Notice he is also wearing a vest.

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