Do yourself a favor and watch this campaign ad. You know you want to.
Hello, yeah, it’s been a while. Not much, how ’bout you?
There really is no reason. In fact, this particular post is over due. I had blog backup and no plunger.
For my first post back after a long break, you know I’m goin’ there. But that is why you came, isn’t it?
Yup. I read an article. Several articles actually. My bad.
This one provides important information to the travelers among us.
I will summarize for you, because I have experience in this matter.
The best time to poop on a plane is right after the seat belt light goes off or when the drinks cart comes. The first is usually pretty early in the flight, so really, you should have taken care of that before you got on the plane. Unless you’re me — and then you did it then, too.
Second, is a story about a man with whom I should have had children. We could certainly reach a happy medium:
Lastly, the third story, required by the peculiarities of comedy writing, is something I am shaking my head about, well, my butt tto, because really — I should have thunk of this idea first. If ever a business model stinks of “Elyse,” well, this is it:
Yup. A business model that practically screams “ELYSE!!!” Here’s the ummmm, scoop on it.
Toronto’s new Poop Café will feature a “unique selection of desserts from around the world,” according to a Facebook post from the café’s profile. While the restaurant will serve dishes that are brown and shaped like poop (kind of like the poop emoji), not every dish will look like feces.
I for one am glad that not all of this restaurant’s dishes will look like poop. That’s important to me in the pre-poop stage of nutrient intake. I like to have a wee bit of anticipation on that score.
*My apologies to my Canadian friends. Just when you guys are basking in the glory of a delightful leader, I go and laugh at your poop cafe. Sorry. But it IS a poop-themed cafe. What did you want me to do?
Surprisingly, even here in polarized Northern Virginia where I live, there are still folks who haven’t made up their minds.
I’m doing all I can to help. I’m making calls, I’ve donated money. I fill out Donald Trumps surveys suggesting that he call Hillary “fat” and ask his followers why she isn’t home in the kitchen.
But the best tool I’ve found is this one:
People are asking me who I voted for. And they really want to know. And I don’t hesitate to let them know why I voted for Hillary.
To the guys in the gas station and the convenience store, I emphasized Hillary’s commitment to raising the minimum wage and the fact that the billionaire has never done anything except cheat working people out of the money they earned.
To the folks in the medical lab, I referred to Hillary’s commitment to science, to healthcare for everybody. Since they have such long working hours, I looked up where they too could vote early and encouraged them to do so.
To the affluent-looking folks in the grocery store, I emphasized the way the market react by falling through the floor whenever there is a hint that Trump is gaining. “Do you want his finger on the nuclear button — we live at Ground Zero — DC (and Northern Virginia) lives under one big target …
Wear your sticker. Talk it up. Don’t pick fights. Use humor however you can.
But everybody with an ounce of sense can help make sure that Wednesday is not the beginning of a long, terrible nightmare.
SO DOES YOUR VOICE