I’m breaking up with you George . . .
. . . and I don’t think we can be friends.
Geoff and I were trying to wrap our brains around the fact that we are no longer represented by George Walker Bush. We realize with glee that the administration (the one we say with a snarl on our face) is now the previous administration. And I know one day I’ll be able to say bush with all the fervor I did in my adolescence. It takes me a while to realize that I can turn on the radio without the fear of hearing something stupid from the leader of the free world and along the same lines I found I actually like hearing our president speak. The odd thing for me and others of my generation is that Bush has been the president for most of our adult lives. The disdain I have for presidential addresses is specific to the one I’m used to hearing give them. How do we act around our new president? Its almost like when you’ve spent 8 years with a stupid controlling boyfriend who you tried to break up with 4 years ago, but you helped him buy a truck and were afraid he wouldn’t pay you back. . you start view lesbianism (Canada) as viable option . . . then you meet a guy who thinks you can do anything, and doesn’t give you nicknames like squishy-butt or flatty two by four. He doesn’t start fights with other guys who look at him the wrong way, and he actually listens to what you have to say. And you think, is he for real? Still when you come home you think he’ll be in his holey underwear drinking beer and watching America’s Funniest Home Videos thinking you should be overcome with lust. But no that was the old one, the new one’s made dinner and says, “You’ve worked hard all day sweetheart, let me rub your feet, and if you feel like it we can take in an art show.”
Obama, I think I’m falling in love with you . . . please don’t turn out like those other guys.
Post Script- Clarence Thomas is sleeping like my dad in church.