voteGreetings, my fellow port swillers!  Oh, hellz yeah, ol’ Robbo voted today:  The fear and loathing meters are pegging pretty damn high this year.

We shall see what happens.

An interesting anecdote that may or may not be of any particular significance:  The Repubby seeking to fill our House seat (upon the incumbent’s retirement) happens to be a member of my parish – I see her at Mass from time to time – and is well known for her social conservatism.   So the Donk challenger decided to run with a full-bore War on Wimminz campaign against her this fall, stuffing the port swiller mailbox with daily fliers about how she wants to return to the bad old days when all wimminz were forced to barefooted pregnancy.

Of course, ol’ Robbo himself is immune to this sort of thing.  What was interesting was Mrs. R’s reaction.  She’s not anywhere near as orthodox in her views on social issues as is ol’ Robbo, nor does she pay anywhere near as much attention to politicks.  Yet every time she saw one of these screeds, she would shake her head and say, “With all the terrible things going on these days, why is he picking a fight about that?”

Why, indeed.

Of the senate race in Our Fair Commonwealth, I have no idea what to say, as both campaigns have been virtually invisible to me.

There were a couple of other issues on the ballot.  One involved an exemption from state property taxes for the surviving spouses of military KIA’s.  Ol’ Robbo is always glad to do what he can for those who serve in uniform.  There was also a bond issue that involved a dollar amount with a whooooole lot of zeros.   Ol’ Robbo almost invariably votes against bond proposals on the principle that one does not give more whiskey to an alcoholic just because he wants it.

As I say, we shall see what happens.  Every time I promise myself that I am not going to spend the evening obsessing over returns, and every time I wind up breaking that promise.  I may not even bother making it today.

Oh, and here’s a scary thought:  The next time we go through this?  The Eldest Gel will be old enough to vote.  Yikes!

UPDATE:  Just a reminder – If your shadenboner lasts more than four hours, contact a physician.   I believe “self-loathing electorate” is the funniest post-mortem spin I’ve seen so far this morning.