Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Why We're All Actually Pretty Scared of Zombies

You are either one of two things: a vampire person or a zombie person.

If you are a vampire person, please get up from your computer right now, feed your three cats, go outside and get in your car, drive to the nearest bridge, and throw yourself off it.

Vampires have only ever stood for shame and sin associated with sex and sluttiness. Vampires are the AIDS of the monster world.

Also they're not real. If all you ever drank was blood, you would get scurvy and your body would die off from malnutrition, not live forever.

But zombies are real. Because all you need for zombies are lots of bodies and a virus, and those two things already exist. It's only a matter of time before something like human rabies or human mad cow appears. I mean, I'm not entirely convinced we're not already eating things containing people. I don't *really* think so, but *if* that story broke, I wouldn't be, like, *shocked*. And geez, we can't even CURE viruses yet, so we're just like helpless against that. It's a magical, inevitable combination, and those of us not too busy jacking off to True Blood trailers have already figured that out.

Let's look at the conditions needed to be present for a zombie apocalypse:
1) overcrowding - done
2) high transient population that can spread quickly without notice- homeless, mentally ill, etc - done
3) low access to immediate healthcare and therefore early warnings or at least early tracking - done
4) low international regulation on genetic alteration of foods and medicines - done
5) corporations with the ability to keep the regulations that way through buy-offs and elections - done

AND THEN my friend Louis made THIS point: it's even more likely that the government will at some point just use the Zombie Infection as an excuse to cull thousands of people to decrease the economic pressure of overpopulation. Like, we know you crazies won't approve any sane population control measures, so we'll just fake outbreaks on TV, and then kill lots of people and claim they were zombies.

So that could totally happen.

The point is, zombies are the sane monster, if sanity means seeing the perversion of reality around you and understanding that we are completely and totally fucked, and just hoping it doesn't get too bad in your own lifetime so you can keep enjoying cable and iced mochas until someone shoots you in the head with a rifle and you're off screen.  We're not scared of the ocean, or volcanoes, or ghosts. Aliens maybe a little, but aliens aren't really monsters, they're a different kind of inevitability. We're not scared of sex, or at least we shouldn't be, unless we're deliberately keeping our understanding of science in the dark ages because someone promises us acceptance if we do, *ahem*. But zombies make sense to be afraid of. They represent what's really left in the unknown - the future of ourselves as a species.

Zombies as an idea were created by cultures that had been invaded and enslaved - South Africa, Haiti. Places where society had been replaced with Society - the corporate empire - the railroad, the coffee plantation, the tobacco farms, the mines. The very basis of the fear is that you can somehow be made not in control of yourself. It used to be through death and sorcery, now we've adapted it to the much more modern idea of disease and law. Look! These people can do this thing to you and you will be out of your mind! You will do anything they tell you! You will buy that detergent and attack and kill your loved ones! Not even death will be able to save you! The brainwashing will follow you beyond death! Heaven is a Starbucks serving brains, where you don't have to even make the decision of what you want, it's just all brains.

I mean, it's not a coincidence that the soul-less victims of Society are hungering for the mental capacities of the uninfected. Romero did that on purpose. That man was a genius. Why did none of us ever start a weird Scientology-like religion off of him? Dibs.

So we joke, a lot, about being prepared for the zombie apocalypse. But we're not really joking. When I say I'm hightailing it back to the Great Lakes and holing up in a salt mine, because a) fresh water b)food preservation and trade-friendly natural mineral, and c) easily defensible one point of entry....I am not joking. I'm sorta joking. But I'm not joking. This is what we're doing, you're either with me or against me, and that's why so many people have their Survive the Zombie Apocalypse plans posted on their OK Cupid profiles. Do I think it's likely that having a mate who knows how to hunt and owns several firearms is going to really be integral to my survival? I mean, probably not? But...I mean, that sort of thing is always useful right? I'm just being prepared.

We're joking, but really what we're doing is mentally preparing ourselves. That's what a population does when they realize they are trapped, cornered, and there's no way out except chewing our way out of the shackles and getting to the nearest cave with a weapon. One that doesn't require ammunition because that shit will run out eventually. (Arrows are good.) We are bristling our hackles, and laughing it nervously off. know...pretty TENSE time to have an election huh? When we're all just starting to go fucking insane with the realization we are no longer in control of our lives? That should put us just a little bit back on the track to unity as a nation, united in our fear, only seriously? Fuck unity as a nation, that's how the fucking zombie apocalypse happens. Also wars. Where people develop biochemical agents? Right?

Anyway, Happy Halloween, and you should still vote for Obama cause I want school loans and birth control.

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

The Whales of Cleveland

In the beginning there were no whales in Cleveland. Lake Erie was too young; it had only recently been cut from the bowels of the continent. There were large shadowy things to be sure, giant fish with gaping jaws and rows of impossible teeth. You can see them now, in museums, encased in dried mud, or you can see them in the depths of today’s lake, down in the bottoms, sucking on the souls of sailors. But there were no whales then, in those troubling times. Nothing resembling a whale. No snub noses and wide wise eyes.

The whales were created by a magician. He wasn’t a real magician, not naturally. He was a man who had once decided to master only this one spell, the creation of life from a special mixture of ground up sand and glass and plants. All around the world he went, conjuring whales in places where whales shouldn’t be. Sometimes the whales were lucky, and their canvasses were at least close to warm waters, in places where sun could get to them, and they could imagine one day of being real whales, for the magician hadn’t really mastered warm and wet life yet – only imitation.  He was missing a dimension. Poor two-dimensional whales, swimming forever in the graceful arc.  The ones in warm places, places of natural habitat where one could expect to see their species, watched the waters so close and so far away, and from the waters they heard the gasps and laugh of real whales. They could hear the bedtime stories the mothers told their calves, to stay away from the coast, or they too might end up trapped on warehouse walls.

One day this magician, this man, who maybe didn’t know what he did or maybe cared more only that people appreciated the small skills he had, his fake art – this man came to Cleveland. As pointed out above, there were no whales in Cleveland, only small fish and larger fish that ate them. But this magician had run out of invitations from cities to show off, so he made up some rigmarole and flashed some shiny things at a few CEOs and councilman. Thus, the Whales were born.  

After it was done, the magician disappeared, never to be seen again.
The Whales were left on the side of an ugly concrete and tin building. Next to a busy and loud highway. Next to a freezing-even-in-July lake. In the summer they burned and the mosquitoes bit at them. In the fall, the wind bit harder. In the winter, their flippers ached with ice and snow. In the spring, cold gray rains melted the ice and left them raw and exposed.

This was their life for years. The car smog built up on them like varnish.

For 10 years, 50 years, 100 years, the citizens of the city gawked and the seagulls laughed.

But one day, oh one special wonderful day, the city fell silent. The cars went away. The weeds took over the highway, and the wind and rain, suddenly deciding to be helpful, whipped especially hard at the building on the lake. The water ate away the breaker rocks, threw them to side, and then gnawed at the piers. 
Oh one day, that building fell with a resounding crash into the still very young lake. And the whales were born again, released into the cold clear waters. Whales are used to cold waters. They bred well.

Friday, October 26, 2012

Geographically In Love

I stand by two assertions - first that the geographical happiness of a person is pre-determined by the landscape in which they grew up, and second that people are mostly attracted to and will end up with other people who share similar facial symmetry with them. 

Before we go any further though, I just want to make sure you noticed the delicate little museum fence around the above tree, which is North Carolina's oldest live oak, 467 years old, which is old enough to remember the dawn of forestry on the continent, and to somehow have survived and grown up despite being in close proximity to a busy little port town. So we honor it, because we do that sort of thing, we honor the survivors of our own massacres. The stuffed dodo bird. The herd of Yellowstone buffalo. Old trees. 

Back to assertions. You guys have already heard me talk about how everything is predatory in the South, and kinda gay, and pretty. I'd like to add delicate to that list of adjectives, no not delicate - detailed. Everything is very detailed. The conversation is very full of purpose and subtlety, the colors and lines of plants are full of niches and contrasts, the light makes everything stand out. The trees and flowers are like lace here. Sometimes yarn, but mostly silk. 

I wonder sometimes how I even stood it, living in Phoenix and being away from every color and landscape that makes me happy. When you grow up near water, you just have to be near water. When you grow up in hills, you feel unsafe on flat land. Mountainous altitudes make you panicky and stressed, quicker and tighter. Lowlands make you slow and blissful, a little less observant. 

I was worried, when I felt this last phase of the homesickness come on, that I would really revolt against how small this town is. But when I felt the trappings of downtown getting closer and closer, I went out to this park, and everything was amazing again. No matter what else is wrong about this place for me - the smallness, the same buildings and roads over and over, I know I got the landscape right. I got the school right too, but even that is secondary to being able to get out on sunny days and feel at home. Lots of water. Lots of blue and green. Remembering that I live on top of a river valley hill now, that leads out to the ocean past marshes and sounds. It makes missing Erie and the Cuyahoga better. River Valley Girl. 

So when I think about who I would like to fall in love with next, here is a mostly complete list of things I am looking for: 

1) is a Sea person. I can't just say Lake Person, because those of you who have never been near a Great Lake don't understand that it's basically a fresh water ocean all broken up into pieces, one for each state. An ocean person is probably okay too. Large Body of Water Person. It's not that I don't love Hill People or Mountain People or Desert People (okay, I may not love desert people), but you're going to want to die in a place similar to the place you grew up, and I'm not spending my golden years suffering in the hills instead of on the beach. 

2) Really good eyebrows. 

3) One of the best compliments I've gotten recently was when Jim told me I had a way of squinting my eyes that was endearing. I think Tyra would call this "smizing". I want a guy who smizes. Blue Eyes Smizing in the Rain. Also, they should get that reference.

4)  Wants to recite poetry because he loves poetry. I will also accept random quotes from fiction. The Prince calling me at 2am to recite Whitman has spoiled me.
Someday someone will quote Roald Dahl to me at a bar and I will be lost forever.

5) Wants to go see stuff he hasn't seen before. Just because he hasn't seen it. Because think of all these things in the world you haven't seen, and how little time you have to see them all, and think of all the things that you see every day, all the time, over and over, that maybe aren't even that pretty or impressive, and then think of how seeing these trees in person was nothing at all like you looking at these pictures nothing even slightly the same, and explain to me how it is in every town I go to, people would rather sit at a bar drinking with me than go out to a park in the middle of the day and see these trees.

6) Thinks those turtles sunning themselves on that log is the sweetest thing ever, but also immediately makes him think about dinosaurs. 

7) Thinks about dinosaurs a lot, and the evolution of mammals, and the way we're all connected in a prehistoric landslide of time, we're just being pushed along in the mudslide of rocks and skeletons into the vast unknown blackness of the future, and it's huge and incomprehensible how long and short and quick and vicious and loving and all consuming the universe is. 

2,3, and 7 might be the most important ones. I mean, 7 basically leads to 5 and 6 anyway. 

Sunday, October 21, 2012

The Gay Magic of the South

My gaydar is broken in this town. I can't stop assuming that every non-redneck gentleman over 50 I meet is gay. I don't know what it is...maybe just the drawl, and the habit they have of making compassionate eye contact and calling me honey. The constant familiar touches on the shoulder, or little "just between us" quips. I totally thought my professor was gay the first day, but then he talked a lot about his wife. And that's usually the very quick give away, because everyone down here is married, every one, every single person. So it's not like I labor long under these wrong impressions. But they do keep happening.

Carey said it was because the whole South was just very queer, and I agree.

Last night I was telling someone about my plans, like why I had applied to Southern schools, and why I wanted to move here. My thesis basically. It's been a minute since I thought about that, because I got all sorts of wrapped up in the actual move and the process of stabilizing in a place - roommates, transportation, job searching, friend making, learning directions. But I very much originally wanted to move South because I felt these similarities between my book learned ideas of Southern Gothic and my childhood experience of the Rustbelt, and I thought I could get a better perspective about the defining characteristics of my culture if I contrasted it with something older and more established. The myth of the South. The Bible Belt. The Cotton Belt. The Tobacco Field. The Retirement Condo. The home of two faced compliments, and disarming people with niceties. I did not miss the fact that I'm very good at those two things already, so I thought I would be able to fit in.

So I had these thoughts and thoughts about my broken gaydar, which I mean, wasn't perfect to begin with but was pretty good. I have a pretty good sense of sexuality between people, I'm femme as fuck sometimes, you don't pull that off without  being able to smell chemistry. But that was up North. Down here, I'm floundering like a bird through a field of cell phone towers. I don't know which way is up. I think the ocean being to the East instead of above me to the North has actually messed up my magnetism. And that's really the root of why the South feels so queer, because you have to realign your social senses, and really learn to look at who people are and take stock of them. People aren't immediately who you suspect them to be. The religion thing, that's sneaky sneaky. They are subtle about that shit. The politics thing is a bit more obvious. They all make eye contact with you, a lot, even when you first meet. I had one guy asked if I had some sort of phobia about making direct eye contact, because my eyes dart around like crazy when I talk. The things that will shock people are...I can't even define it yet, but they are off. I'll say something completely innocuous to me, given our prior conversational topics, and without warning everyone will act like I'm crazy, even though the last guy just made baby killing jokes and we were fine with it.

I also think, and this is maybe just me and my friends, but I think that Southern Gentility is very similar to the gay and queer homes I frequented in Ohio. Like, the aesthetic, the feel of the rooms. The calm sort of acceptance of a new situation, the friendliness. Everyone being generally sensible, and then busting out that one weird part of crazy ever so often, like a light dusting of personality. Things are clean and pretty, even when they are drunk and debauched. Everyone judging you.

Even the actual colors seem familiar in that way to me - all the greens and whites and sunlight yellows.
It could also be that maybe I just knew a lot of gay guys up north who were from more southern climes.
Whatever the reason, I do like it. It's strange to be immersed in, but it's not bad. I think being able to notice how the greens are more yellow here was a good call.

I was talking with a guy here about this, and he got defensive about the concept I was describing, so I tried to explain that when I referred to the South being gay, it wasn't in a pejorative. It was actually a compliment. He seemed skeptical, but he got it. There's that too. I end up having to explain myself a lot, and it's not because people are dumb, it's because I'm just incapable of fully articulating and owning these thoughts yet, there's so many new ones, I'm chattering like a squirrel half the time about how just Weird this all is.

We were walking back from breakfast, and passed a building across the road that was an industrial looking painted brick courtyard, with girders and skylights, filled with trees and a pond and benches. It turned out to be a wedding venue. These guys were there unloading stuff for a daughter's wedding there tomorrow, and of course someone in my group knew someone in their group, cause that's how this place works. It was a really beautiful spot, and maybe I just really needed to be somewhere like that for a moment, a little urban cave. I'm feeling a lack of buildings in my life, skyscrapers and carnegie libraries and what not. When I walked in there, I had a little moment when my breath caught and I thought "I want to get married here", which is such a fucked up and foreign idea, that my brain was just scattered. This is what I'm talking about, these glimpses of yourself in which you are not at all the person you thought you were, like you're looking at a reflection of yourself, or seeing yourself in a photo for the first time in a while. Unfamiliar. Not bad though. Maybe bad sometimes.

So I guess I understand that part of traveling now. The ability to not only contrast your culture, but contrast yourself.

I said I was going to make myself a t-shirt that read The Gay Magic of the South, and I've been trying to think of a picture to put on it that will make it instantly clear I mean this as a positive wonderful Looking Glass adventurous sort of thing. Right now a photo of Tennessee Williams is winning.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

The 2nd Presidential Debate Liveblog

I can't find the twitter genius who posted this first, so all apologies

9pm Hey Y'all! See, I'm trying to be more Southern. Who's ready for this incredibly stupid style of debate, where the candidates answer inane obvious already pre-selected questions from idiots who are still undecided?

Seriously though, who the fuck doesn't know by now who they are voting for? At this point, I have more respect for Republicans than I do undecided voters.

Town Halls should really only be used for executions

Candy Crowley is a stripper witch name. I should hire her to do a spell for me. I actually think all the witches in the country should get together and do one big spell to fix the election. I wonder if that's a thing that happens? Witches secretly being hired by superstitious politicians?
Oh man, Infrastructure is like the sexiest issue ever. (yes I just completely skipped over the education pell grants thing. That poor kid you all are making fun of, good for him. He got to ask a debate question on national television, what the fuck did you all do last night?)
How is any one skeptical of alternate energy sources still? It really blows my mind. I guess they didn't grow up with Captain Planet. I mean, do people think that wind or sun is like somehow weaker? Like, it's pussy energy, like tofu and henna?
This Energy Debate is making me super angry and I want to cry. I hate all humanity. Captain Planet, he's my hero, gonna bring pollution down to....
I am getting upset at how long this fact checking site from Washington Post is taking to load, because I feel like if we all look up whether Mitt is lying all at the same time, then he might explode.
9:25pm I swear to god, I bet every one of these moderators goes home and beats their dog. I don't even blame them. I can't listen to this vague tax bullshit anymore.
OH THANKS No tax on the savings I don't have? From my imaginary investments and mutual funds. That's helpful.
Here is the difference between the candidates - Obama references people who aren't in the middle class like they actually exist. Don't be silly Barack. Didn't you hear? We all make around 200,000 and therefore it's important our mutual funds aren't taxed.
Dear Republicans: How can you be so focused on getting everyone a job, and yet still refuse to believe population control is something we're going to have to adopt at some point? I mean, even if you're not down with killing all the old people, can you at least relax a little on birth control?
Whoa, Mittens is watching Obama talking, and literally clenching his microphone so hard I can see the blood dripping from his hand.
Props to Obama for working in the word "sketchy". 5 bucks if he can use "crafty", 20 bucks if he says "she's crafty and she's just my..."
This is the best question so far, about getting women equal pay in the workplace. Also YES Lilly Ledbetter! YES. I wonder if that little girl in Omaha ever dressed up as her? I bet that would be a depressing as fuck costume.
"Thank you, yes, yes, as governor of my state, I learned that I should hire women even though they didn't apply to be part of my cabinet, because otherwise feminist groups yell at you."
Whoa wait, did Mitt just imply that a labor shortage is needed to get employers to hire more women? Cause, I mean, yeah, that's probably true.
9:44pm Guys, Obama just won the debate. (This is when he delivered that speech about his daughters, and hit his stride, and I was totally right.)
This woman sure is an undecided voter, look at how she paired that jacket and that scarf.
I'm sorry Lady, you didn't deserve that. That was a good questions.
How Mitt Romney is different than George W Bush 
1) will start war with China 
2) will fund terrorists in Latin America to make sure no one fucks with McDonalds (benefit - lots more 80s style action hero movies) 
3) Wants stuff
I hope that this coming Cold War with China, which instead of a space race will be a "control your populace and stock markets" race, means there will be lots more Chinese spy novels by Grisham like self published authors.
See, all Romney's got is this personal story crap. I mean, are people so incapable of seeing that they are at the bottom of a a complicated chain of actions and consequences? Is this why people still eat McDonalds? I've said it before, but I'll say it again, Romney reminds me of the skeezy New Zealand guy who took over the last company I worked at, and then just kept making videos from his living room in a polo shirt.
Okay, I know how to solve all this unemployment crap. Let's kill 23 Million people. Not just the unemployed though. We'll do a lottery. We can use the polio vaccine records.
10:00pm Good, an immigration question. Romney thinks we should give green cards to the smart people that we want, and breed mutant three headed dogs with poison herpes tongues to guard the giant wall of broken glass and nails to keep all those stupid poor people who don't have degrees out of our damn country, also he wishes you would remember to hand wash his shirts, Lorraine.
Hahaha, both Obama and Romney wanted this woman's name to be Lorena so badly, they said it out loud, just to sound more spanishy.
Man, Arizona is the new Alaska, which was the new Florida. Also I wish Obama had just used the word racism there. RACISM. ARIZONA IS RACIST.
Is it weird that I'm getting more and more worried that Mittens is going to pull a giant red button out of his suit pocket and start laughing maniacally? (I just realized that as a country we've been calling this middle aged power hungry asshole a cat's name for the last year, and yet we're still surprised when he looks like he's going to crack any day now.)
I wish I had paid more attention to the Yellow Journalism section of my community college history course, cause then I would have something witty to compare this Libya bullshit too.
I think every American president should have to start with an apology tour of the world. Every term.
Dear Hillary Clinton: I will totally vote for you in 4 years, I promise. Because you are my generation's Margaret Thatcher. Which isn't exactly a compliment maybe, but means I trust you to bite people during a fight.
10:15pm Man, Mittens just got schooled by the fucking journalist moderator. Stripper Witch, I love you.
She is wearing a glitter suit. And asking about AK 47 legislation. I bet she makes amazing cupcakes.
This town hall format would be amazing if they did it through random video booths through out the country. Especially because of the riots.
Mittens just linked druglords and assault rifles to not having 2 parent homes and not having charter schools. Without answering the question. Just to throw it out there that bastards shouldn't be able to get jobs or hunting licenses.
Here's a novel concept: we just give the presidency to whoever can stay exactly within their time limit at the last debate.
Wait, is Germany stealing our jobs now too? Oh fuck. Let's just give up now. I mean, I would go work in Germany in a second.
10:30pm Pioneers of Outsourcing often died from Infected Taxholes once they hit the Oregon River.
Romney is so anti-China, I'm starting to think he's the Manchurian Candidate. It would much.
It just occurred to me that Obama's plan to bring in manufacturing is what Pittsburgh's revitalization strategy was, and you know, that totally worked.
I am not a child of any god, just to be clear. Though I really like Mormon clothing lines. But I'm actually Heart from Captain Planet.
I feel like multiple times in these debates, Romney has specifically said his policies would leave everyone secure EXCEPT ME. Cause I'm under 45, and not middle class, and I don't want to have babies, and I don't buy gas.
10:40pm Alright, anyone who tells you Obama lost that debate is a moron and you should let the air out of their tires and not make out with them.
The best part of this election cycle has been learning how many of my friends hate David Brooks because they are Canadian racists.
It would be most awesome if we could withhold all fact checking until after the debates, and everyone voted, and then whoever vote for the guy who lied the most times, those are the people who have to pay taxes and the rest of us get our school loans forgiven.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

The Ant Wars

I am having ant troubles. I thought at first my biggest enemies here were mosquitoes, but now that it's cooled down a bit, turns out I am an ant delicacy. Not little black ants. No, angry vengeful red ants. They can't get enough of me.

I discovered this first while I was waiting at the bus stop on campus. It was hot, I was wearing ballet slippers and a dress. I'm standing there waiting, sweating buckets, uncomfortable and itchy because I'm kinda allergic to my own sweat, which calls into question my very judgement in moving anywhere South instead of, I don't know, Nova Scotia. I could be herding sheep in Nova Scotia, but instead I'm a fat girl sweating my ass off in a half polyester dress in North Carolina. Whatevs. So I'm standing there, and I feel something on my cheek, and when I go to brush it off, I find a red ant on my hand. Then I give myself a glance, and notice that in fact I am crawling with ants. They are all over my legs. They are crawling down my bra straps. I freak out and start pouring my little water bottle all over my feet. I am covered with hard little red bumps for a week, on my stomach and inside my thighs and everywhere, it's gross. 

So I stop standing at the bus stop. 

Then last week I got drunk, and a friend came back home with me one night and we stayed up talking in my backyard late. I felt nothing. The next morning though, there were 8 little hard red bumps on my shoulder, and three more on my stomach, and one on my chest, and basically they had been crawling on me all night. That morning I took a good hard look at the patio, and found ant hills everywhere. Which I was relieved about, cause one of my NYC friends had suggested bed bugs, and I was just about to kill myself. 

My friend on twitter suggested the use of something called dia-something or other earth, I can't even pronounce. 
My other friend said I should burn everything. Napalm that shit. 
But Melissa had the best suggestion. She thinks I should capture a tribe of bus stop ants, and transplant them to the backyard colony, and let them slaughter each other. 

I wonder who would win? The rough and tumble bus stop ants, who scrounge on the side of the asphalt for their very existence?
Or the more civilized, large colony of domestic backyard ants, who have more to lose, and are probably more organized, but maybe not as bloodthirsty?
Maybe their reliance on organization will be their downfall, like the redcoats. 
And how many ants should I bring over? How large of a brigade would it take to give the bus stop ants a fighting chance?

Also what if all of Wilmington is just one large ant colony, and all that happens is some of the bus stop ants get chastised for being off base, and some paperwork gets filled out, and these damn things never die?

Friday, October 12, 2012

Red Wine, Weiner Dogs, and The Vice Presidential Live Blog

courtesy of

8:47pm Hey guys! So tonight is the Vice Presidential debate and I'll be sitting here judging these two contenders by the only standard needed for a Vice President - who's more of a slut. This will be particularly interesting because I actually visualize the candidates more like this...

8:58 I am thoroughly disgusted with the networks inability to offer any warmup to these things besides that weird Christina Applegate show no one watches.

9:01 Why are they letting them sit? NO FAIR. Make them stand and sweat. If it were up to me, this would be a dance off.I don't know who Martha Radatz is, but at least they have to respect her cause she's a woman.
The Vice President debate is like, the funny halftime show with Madonna and Will.I.Am.
I like how both the presidential candidates wore solid color ties, and these guys are both wearing STRIPES. Cause this is all casual and cool and shit. Hence the CHAIRS.
ooooh....Ryan is taking notes. That's kinda hot. I love note takers. Unless he's just drawing pictures of himself shirtless.

9:10 And Biden has uttered his first " MALARKEY"
I do not care about dead ambassadors. TALK ABOUT WOMENS HEALTH YOU SHITHEADS

9:15 Hey Ryan, answer the question about Iran. Hey Ryan, answer the question about Iran. Hey Ryan, answer the question about Iran. Hey Ryan, answer the question about Iran. Hey Ryan, answer the question about Iran.
I have completely lost track of what Ryan is saying. What is he saying? We need to befriend the ayatollahs on facebook? And then prove them we are good girlfriends? What?

Oh Biden, don't explain to us about how to make a nuclear weapon. You know Ryan doesn't believe in your "science".

9:20 I do like that Biden is basically Obama's pit bull. I like that Obama always hires blustery assholish white guys to back him up. Also I like that they are calling each other "my friend" every other minute.
Dear Ryan, spinning the centrifuges faster doesn't make a bomb. Just like rape doesn't prevent pregnancy.
Wait, is Biden calling the prime minster of Israel by a nickname?

9:25 Oh good, let's talk more about jobs. I don't think we covered that enough in the first debate.
I don't even HAVE a job right now, and I'd like to talk about something else.
Wouldn't it be great if Biden had just actually said " We're going to level the middle class" , cause who gives a shit about playing fields.

Aimee: she looks like ... like experimental plastic surgery 
so i can't really focus on what she's saying 
me: Aww, she's just old and covered with makeup 

9:30 There is no way Scranton and that whatever Wisconsin town are anything alike. Because Wisconsin is full of people drunk on cheese. It makes for different architecture.
Mitt Romney is not a car guy. I bet he doesn't even know where an oil filter is. Also why is Mitt Romney giving free college educations away only to people who go to his church who he doesn't even know, which is weird for mormons right? Hey Mitt, I will become a mormon if you will pay for my tuition please.

I also love that they keep accusing the Republicans of putting things on the credit card. I want to sleep with whatever staffer came up with that.

Everyone should be drinking when one of them says "My Friend here..."

9:35 OH MY GOD Biden just pulled the grandpa move " I WISH HE WOULD a little more candid." 

9:40 God I wish they would just let Biden do every vote (edit: I meant debate, obvs) from now on. In chairs. With scotch.
So the medicare voucher is like a pension buyout? Is that it? I just had horrible steel mill flashbacks.

Aimee: i like that when biden is in total disagreeance, his laughs and stares at the ceiling like his constituent is on the phone and not right next to him 
me: like he's on a conference call? 
Aimee: exactly. 
me: he wouldn't be wearing pants under that desk then 
Aimee: were they told to look directly at each other as little as possible?

I think Biden is avoiding Ryan's watery stare because he's scared of the little vampire visiting him later if he lets him get control of his will.

9:45 Wow, both of them are completely disproving my Women Moderators Get Respect theory
Ryan doesn't understand that his definition of "middle class" is completely incredible, and therefore he should stop saying it.

Just so you all know, and I thought we covered this last election, 250,000 is not middle class. NOT MIDDLE CLASS.
Aimee: he looked right at me and said "watch out, middle class." you were right about the vampire theory.
9:50 Someone start a band called Loopholes and Deductions
I can't believe I watch these things, and like 80% of how I'm judging the winner or loser is just by who is the best male posturer, and part of me RESPECTS that, cause I get the artistry of it, but at some point can't we just have bare knuckle boxing? Or like the scene in Indiana Jones with the shots in the Tibetan pub. Let's do that. Let's also have Nazis in on this. And BRANDING.
10:00 All these numbers Ryan is throwing out about defense? They are all about 50 times as much as PBS costs.
I gotta say that logically what Biden's saying about the military wanting more streamlined forces makes sense. I mean, we have robots. We have lots of robots. WE HAVE SO MANY ROBOTS. So if I was a general, I would want less fleshies, and MORE ROBOTS.
Scott thinks Biden is getting too aggressive towards Martha. Aimee thinks Biden is hitting on Martha. I think this whole liveblog needs more dogs, but wordfaire won't load all the amazing weiner dogs pictures I found for Just This Occasion.

I can't believe America doesn't want to just KEEP Afghanistan. It's such PRIME territory.
Ryan seems to have a lot of "friends" in the military,
In 2014, The Vampires Rise.
hahahahahaha Ryan just said EMBOLDEN. This whole thing is now the poison scene in the Princess Bride.
Aimee: I think Martha is sassing Ryan because he looks like a high school student who needs sassing. 
me: that's kinky
10:10 Every time Biden yells out "The Afghans!" I can only pictures dogs and blankets.
According to Aimee, it does in fact, snow in Afghanistan, so all that fighting season stuff wasn't complete bunk, but for some reason it's making it very Lion Witch Wardrobe.
Scott: This fucking guy needs a haircut
Most Likely to Be a Sponsor of Terrorism is the next yearbook category
 Scott, who? Eddie Munster?
Erin "how can I comment on your live chat? Ryan said Russia Reset! Russia Reset? What is that? Some kind of CIA code? Scares me a bit."
It's all in code Erin. Mayan code.

Scott: I stopped paying attention for a minute. What the fuck are we getting emotional about?
Scott: This is the sort of garbage that proves democracy is a failed concept
Ryan just pulled out the whole "My faith is justified by reason and science and that's why it would have sucked if my wife killed my daughter and I wasn't able to call her this terrible stupid nickname I probably just made up for this debate." 
Scott: We have nicknamed our first unborn child "Bean". Jesus christ
When the fuck are people going to understand that population control is complete necessary?
This is the best moment, because GUESS WHAT, there are no more Catholics, so fuck them.
Aimee: Biden just looked at me with pity since I am sitting here listening to this
Okay, listen up Catholics. You would not be dying as a religion if you admitted that half of your people support gay rights and are pro-choice anyway, cause they are upper middle class educated white people. And you would get more tithes if you started a twitter account where you made lighthearted Christian jokes and took instagram pictures of priests making silly faces. God, I am embarrassed by the entire tone of all of this.
Scott: Whatshername wants to take the last five minutes of the debate to just motherfuck everybody involved all up and down town.
Aimee: i am reeeeeally excited for ryan's children to be gay and/or pregnant out of wedlock. 
me: Ryan can't have children, he thinks oral is the same as fucking
Scott: Anybody who's still watching is at least five beers deep, except the live bloggers for real web sites who will arbitrarily decide a winner and create a 5% movement in the polls tomorrow.
10:25 Everyone, if he says My Friend one more time, chug whatever you're drinking
I have SO MUCH better eyebrows than Ryan.
Scott: Ryan has SO MUCH better p90x than you do.
Aimee: unfortunately, Bridget, he already has children. 
me: lies 
Aimee: they may be beans, but i have faith they will fuck up their lives somehow. 
me: maybe they are beans cause they are not abortion if you keep the fetus? 
Aimee: ... because it's not abortion if you keep the fetus? 
me: NOPE 
Aimee: I have learned so much this evening.
 Scott, I would survive a nuclear winter better.
Scott: Bridget, only because, as you've already admitted, you'd be banking on my impenetrable self to bail you out.
Scott: Everybody would be paying so much more attention right now if there was a cage match afterward
They should both have to do their closing statements in Wu Tang lyrics
10:31  I can't trust Ryan cause he looks like a guy I took acid with once who insisted I shave his head while in the middle of the trip, and then got mad the next morning when it was all uneven.
 Okay, I feel like Ryan's closing statement was a ShamWow commercial
Scott: I fucking hope that these "Democratic Strategists" have learned that the first thing you do when a debate is over is call your candidate the winner.
Scott: Ray. When someone asks if you are a God, you say YES