Now that Dr. Morell has cut back on the Lorazepam, things are more in focus and I feel much more able to grapple with the issues of the day. I made it through Carrot Head's transition, and as ol' Blue Eyes sort of sang, "if I could make it there, I can make it anywhere!" I like Sinatra. Too bad he was Italian. All those greaseball mobsters stick together and they all abandoned me. I hear Nancy, his bitch daughter, voted for Carrot Head.
Still, I haven't felt this optimistic since my last refill!
Dr. Morell still doesn't think it a good idea that I watch television, but yesterday I couldn't help but giggle when I eavesdropped on Bill's home office and overheard Chuck Todd on "Meet The Press," talking about the size of crowds at Carrot Head's event. FINALLY, that lemon head is getting down to the important stories.
During the you-know-what, Todd would just sit there with that smug look on his face, pretending to be some sort of king-maker, interviewing anyone who tossed a few bucks his way. He never asked anyone else the tough questions, but when I was there he never let up. He'd focus on all the stupid stuff, like e-mails, private servers, Benghazi and reset buttons. I sure wish he would have thrown me the good stuff, like how big MY crowds were. Or how big MY hands were.
On this, I feel Carrot Head may be right: The media is rigged!
I never really cared for that Chuck Todd person, anyway. Him and his little faux goatee, trying to be hip instead of
Dr. Morell says I need to ease off the Paxel and look on the brighter side: At least Chuck didn't get into talking about that needle dick, Tim Kaine, "who never lost an election." Yeah, right. That could have been awkward.