Super Tuesday!

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. I’m still down, but not out. My head cold has attacked my lungs and left me with a bark that rivals the Hound of the Baskervilles. It is a deep bark, benefiting a man of my stature, and if I could control it, it would be an excellent defensive tool. As it is, it comes out of nowhere, uncontrolled, and winds up scaring me, as well as everyone else within a hundred feet of me.

So you can see part of my dilemma as I headed out to perform my civic duty today. I had no way of knowing how long I was going to be standing in a line waiting to vote, trying to suppress my cough from Hell. I did not know if I would be dragged out of line and pounded on for coughing on others, even though I’ve mastered the “Count Dracula” cough into your elbow method they teach now. I mean, most of us notice folks with the sniffles, someone like me, trying to wretch a lung, is bound to draw attention.

I loaded up on two gigantic swigs of Tussin-DM, nearly finishing the bottle, and popped two Hall’s cough drops in my mouth before entering our polling place. We vote at the Nonsuch Fire Station #22. I had anticipated a much bigger crowd, what with The Donald’s popularity and all. To my surprise, there were only a dozen or so folks milling about the various stations. I have to admit that I had a moment of anxiety when it came time to present my credentials for getting my voting “credit card”. The octogenarian manning the verification station was taking an inordinate amount of time processing my paperwork. I worried that the state of Georgia had not returned all of my rights, and I might face the public embarrassment of being turned away by the octogenarian, in addition to a coughing fit.

Turns out, I shouldn’t have worried, I was handed my special “Democrat” credit card and pointed to the voting booth. Turns out, that was the slow down in my processing. Apparently, my polling place had requested a minimal of  “Democrat” credit cards, not expecting there to be more than 3 or 4 of us voting at a time. I don’t know whether to be saddened or heartened by the news that the Democrat voter turnout had exceeded expectations. I was given pause after casting my vote, and the “final verification” screen came up, and the number 14 was in the upper right hand corner. I took it to mean I was the 14th Democrat to vote on that machine today. It might have meant the 14th Democrat at the polling spot. It might have meant nothing at all, I just don’t think I’ve notice the number before. I guess I should just take solace in the knowledge that there are others out there like me. Democrats, I mean.

Well, I grabbed my little peach “I voted” sticker and bolted for the door. I wanted to ask the poll worker about the number 14, but I could feel a cough of Biblical proportions coming on. I made it back to the Firebird before unleashing a barking fury that had wolves in North Carolina answering me back. I finally got the cough out of my system and headed back to the Rec room at TackyToo. I finished the bottle of Tussin-DM on the way.

It just being a primary and all, I didn’t try to manipulate any of my neighbors into voting, or not voting. On the Republican side of things, I think they’ve put together the worst field of candidates since the beginning of the Republic. These guys make Romney and McCain look like their last name should have been Roosevelt. Seriously, only one of the candidates, Kasich, isn’t an odds on favorite for taking W’s name off of the trophy awarded to the “Worst President Ever”. In The Donald’s own words, “What A Bunch of Losers”. 

Go vote, you’ll feel better.

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