That’s right. You don’t need to vote, or waste a night hearing Wolf Blitzer’s high pitched whine about which way Ohio goes. Because …
Obama wins. That’s right. No chance he doesn’t. How do I know that? Three reasons.
One. I have two degrees in government and history. Government and History. Bet you don’t have both – unless you were in my double major program. And I bought them in DC, where the President lives. He’s like everywhere. Hey, there’s Obama in Starbucks. It’s all about access. Which makes me very political.
And broke. Because I still have student loans to that fucking overpriced schoolhouse. But I do get chatty with the out-sourced loan people sometimes when I’m not in the mood to pay. And Rahul in Mumbai claims that Obama is a lock. Put that in the bank.
Two. The fat governor of New Jersey called it last week. Christie would not have praised Obama if he thought Romney had a pulse. The guy’s a politician. They don’t take chances. Trust me, they don’t. And bonus … Christie is a cool dude. There is only one reason I’d ever move to Jersey, and it ain’t the family that I love that lives there. It’s a 276 pound lord of the Universe that lives in the governor’s mansion. How much fun is that guy? Wish I was his best friend, drinking beers, watching football, and calling press conferences in his Governor sweats to tell the guidos to get off the fucking beach in Belmar. Christie told the world the election was over last week, and he’s the man.
Three. I’m psychic. I am. I had a dream where we have four more years of the same shit, which means Obama. Whether you think that’s good or bad I leave to you, as I’m trying to remain politically neutral on this site – but that’s what I saw in my dream. I also saw four Japanese school girls dressed as Hobbits … but that’s none of your business.
So given I’m right, what should you do on Tuesday?
Vote. Cause there is a chance I’m wrong. Very slight, but it’s possible. It’s also possible the Jets win the Superbowl, so your call.
Drink a lot. Because Tuesday counts as a Friday. National holiday, even though it’s actually not, but it should be. When you roll in hungover on Wednesday, or call a “sick day,” just say you were very upset that Romney/Obama won. Then accuse your boss of sexual harassment. Because your hunch that they are checking you out is true. How do I know this? I’m psychic.