In Which Your Humble Blogger feels overwhelmed, but what the heck, writing it down won’t make it worse, right?
In Which Your Humble Blogger is careful not to refer to Rahm Emanuel by name, because I do not want to get onto that man’s dead list.
In Which Your Humble Blogger steers by the stars, not by the lights of each passing ship. Wait, that’s the wrong Bradley, isn’t it?
In Which Your Humble Blogger thinks there is more going on than meets the eye.
In Which Your Humble Blogger notices a slight change in the world, and a slight change in his attitude as well.
In Which Your Humble Blogger meant to link to Nate Silver’s post, which was about the electoral college particularly but seemed relevant anyway.
In Which Your Humble Blogger will miss her, as soon as she goes.
In Which Your Humble Blogger could imagine Bertie being tricked into wearing one by Madeline Bassett, thus causing Roderick Spode to threaten to pound him into jelly, but I cannot imagine Bertie actually choosing to wear one with deliberation and understanding.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is also upset that the President’s top two advisors have never held jobs in the government and thus no relevant experience to do the jobs they have been given, but that’s his choice.
In Which Your Humble Blogger goes on record as crying, crying, crying.