I cracked a second beer after supper and headed to the basement. I had manly things to do in my basement. Sort this, rearrange that. Nothing in particular, I just needed some time surrounded by manly things like hand tools, power tools and the sweetest work bench I have ever built. Once I crank the boombox up to wow, I can spend hours hunched over the bench doodling with pieces of copper, fixing a fan, you know, small tasks that have been sitting patiently waiting their turn to take up some of my manly time.
That second beer was my first mistake. Or maybe it was just heading downstairs in a weakened state of mind. You see I keep my bottle of sippin whisky down stairs. And well, one thing led to another and by the time I came upstairs for some air and to catch some of the Vice Presidential Debate, my spring had been wound pretty damn tight.
I turned on the Debate and whose ferret face jumps out at me jawing about Iran - yeah that's right, Paul Ryan. I immediately thought of the business card my dad had printed up back in the day. It was a card with a simple, easy to understand message. He would hand them to whomever he thought was talking out of their asshole, usually after serious intake of the demon Rum. I had managed to find one card intact after he dearly departed and I saved it. Apparently I saved it for this day, this debate. If ever a man should be handed this card, it is Paul Ryan. I took a picture of it and added the "Paul Ryan".
How do these guys do it? Sit there and with conviction lie right to our faces. Do they ever take a break and tell the truth? Do they even know what the truth is? I am reminded of the term "You can't make this stuff up." Apparently politicians can.
Overall, I thought old Joe did a fine job. He did not give Paul Ryan a free ride. Joe was in his face. Bill Maher's Tweet basically covered it.
"Hello 9-1-1? There's an old man beating a child on my TV."