Saturday Night's All Right for Fightin

Well, Petunia is thirsty.

The beginning of summer is upon us weary politikers, and with it, hope springs nocturnal. Yes, I'd rather SLEEP through this armageddon of an election than function under the guise of happy to conform. Petunia is a rebel, always has been, and is about to BE a has been. Ain't going out in style, and to quote an infamous Wright man, "no, no, no it's G-d damn the liberal cable media outlets who are making me stare at my cable bill with no intention of paying it....soon. Petunia isn't here to regale you with the stories you've read about. Sinclair, FISA, Campaign Finance Reform, Audacity of the Dope. You have an amalgam of brain matter, don't you? YES YOU DO! This is Petunia's post for cathartic cleansing. Glad you are joining me through my journey towards November. Will the wolf please rise and hand in his badge? This coming week ought to be a humdinger. My girl receiving the Academy Award for fundraising with O. Substance? Since when has America, my country, chosen substance over perceived style? The kids are taking over the farm, and the rest of us laborious laborers are not going to plow their fields during the apocalypse. Someone wake the children up! Barry's home! Lock the doors.