I had been saving that subject line in case Bush won next week, but after my little whoopsie-daisy in the time machine the other day, I am pretty convinced he will not. I was just telling my sister the Moose that I should have taken a picture of myself holding next week’s newspaper, but since I correctly reported the ever-baffling Red Sox winning the Superbowl or whatever that was before they actually did it, I should be all set in the proof department. Besides, taking pictures of oneself out at arm’s length is a little Sweet Valley High or something. High you say. The hell.

Someone reminded me that Halloween is coming up, and I don’t have a costume. I thought of the scariest thing I could, and it looked like Copperplate Gothic and Comic Sans in a grotesque threesome with Arial, spelling out “Support Our Troops” on one of those inscrutable magnetic ribbons. All the churches and high schools up this way changed their moveable letter boards to read “Go Sox” instead of “Support Our Troops,” so I guess we have a reprieve from supporting. Curt Schilling, poster boy for “resolve,” wants you to vote Bush. Go back to your red state, sirrah. Let the heavens continue to smile on Massachusetts, and stop trifling, people.

I suppose I should be Bitter for Halloween.

I wrote this yesterday morning and never got around to posting, and it scarcely feels relevant, but then again, what ever is.