Please make it stop hurting!!!

The Irishman asked if he could get me anything, a glass maybe - I asked for a straw.
I'll search the internet tonight - I'm sure somewhere there's a 12-step program for ex-pats from a facist regime. Don't tell anyone, but I'm thinking about defecting to Canada...."just 'cross the border and into the city/won't have to drive too far/finally see what it means to be living" not sure if those lyrics were in the right order - might be the Smirnoff typing at this point.
Have to admit, I was surprised at my reaction. I was the one spouting last week "oh, I wouldn't be surprised if he gets elected again - he's got the country scared stiff with color-coded terror alerts" and when I read that Kerry conceded to Butthead this morning, I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I finished my last two hours at work somehow and traveled home in a daze (bouts of don't-cry-at-work were followed with don't-cry-on-the-ubahn) and made it to the front door. By the time I reached the bedroom, I couldn't see anymore, my eyes filled with tears and I blubbered like a 13 year old girl who just learned that Mom and Dad did not, in fact, take MommaKitty away to live her days out on a farm.... Embarrassed that I was, at 29, still filled with school-girl hope that the country would see the light and elect an advanced life-form to office, I cried until my eyes were empty, throbbing and sore. Then I found the Smirnoff Ice that Sandrine gave me for my birthday and now I'm starting to feel a bit better. In fact, I might feel this damn good for the next four years. Let's just hope there's enough Smirnoff to support me.
Slainte!

Ooooh - I almost forgot the knitting content (I mean, this is a knitting blog). Do you suppose I could three-needle-bind Bush's lips together?