Whenever you need a six-foot statue of a hot dog in a bun, with legs -- including tennis shoes and athletic socks -- in mid-squat, forcing ketchup into its own forehead while wrapped in an American flag, I know just where you can find one.I think I had a nightmare about this when I was a kid, after watching one of those '60s-early-'70s anti-drug movies with some teenage girl who "accidentally" dropped acid and fried her brain into psychosis. I'm not kidding, either. I saw this on my way to a polling place today and had to flip a u to get a shot of it.
Election coverage is over for me, for now. Most gracious loser: J-ed, my political fiance, who, I suspect, wants to break up with me now because he's got to concentrate on Super-Duper Tsunami Tuesday.
Not a single voting mishap today, unless you count people who didn't know where their precincts were. I don't. That's just normal.
Can't even say how tired I am of hitting refresh on CNN.com, scvotes.org. But, all in all, we did some ass-kicking election stuff. Hot dawg!
4 comments:
Hot dawg, indeed! What happened to the sand sculptures?
They are all gone. Even the one of Stephen Colbert. The sand has gone back to where it's stored, for the next time we need a sand sculpture.
I assume that would be the beach?
No, they actually store it somewhere. I can't tell where, though. They would disappear me.
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