Dear America:
You are a horde of fucking wankers. I tried so hard to believe in you, and you just keep making it harder and harder. I wondered aloud last night how many times in the next two weeks I would hear the phrase, "Ohio is the new Florida." So far I am up to four.
America, I know you mean well, but sometimes, meaning well just will not cut it. Like the turkey you once wanted as your national bird, you could drown yourself in a fucking rainstorm. Now you have subjected the world to two weeks of explaining what a provisional ballot is, and what constitutes a valid vote. Why could you not just GET IT RIGHT?
And furthermore, you mob (as I am forced to assume by your actions) of brainless fucking zombies, gay marriage will not cause the world to erupt in a seething mass of flames and doom -- although come to think of it, I can think of another decision you made last night that will.
Not, of course, that I am giving up on you completely. I am an optimist at heart. You still have a chance to pull this out and prove you are not all that bad, once you get past the layers of grime and fucking idiocy. So go for it, America. Prove to me that you are worth all this trouble. Prove to me that you are not, as appears at first blush, a bunch of moronic fucking asshats. I am counting on you.
Outwardly patient yet inwardly seething with rage,
Biscuit