Wednesday, November 03, 2004

Waxing Poetic

Ahhhhh, the sweet, sweet nectar of victory is in the air. It courses through my veins - warming my heart and tickling my loins. She's a tender, loving mistress that invades my soul and intoxicates my psyche. Rejoice, as I suckle at the bosom of triumphant success and conquest.
I shall savor each and every one of the next 2,217,600 minutes that the American people have bequeathed to each and every one of us.

And blessed are those that we have saved from themselves. May each of them come to experience the joy and relief that I have come to feel in the last 14 hours. May each of them be sustained in the sheltering womb of Mother Conservatism.

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