I hope you’re hunkered down and staying safe, today and in the days to come.

Here at Death to Squirrels Central™, it’s as if a massive blizzard or Cat 5 hurricane had been predicted: we were already sort of well-stocked with staples and essentials due to COVID, but we’re now very well-stocked. We’re also charging all devices, checking flashlights/putting out candles and just generally being extra-EXTRA-paranoid. We have no fucking idea what today may bring – and neither does anyone else.

I have heard a few sharp and contentious-sounding conversations outside my window on Hudson Street this morning, which would not be unusual generally, but is highly unusual on a morning weekday. Then again, the water in my building is shut off to fix a drain pipe or something, so it could just be a couple of my pissed-off neighbors yelling at the super and the plumber. That would be totally normal.

Fuck. I just heard more yelling. What was I saying about extra-EXTRA-paranoid? Yeah. I think it might be klonopin o’clock.

I will NOT be hoping or praying for you (because hope is not a plan and nothing fails like prayer). But for whatever it’s worth I will be thinking and worrying about you, good people of the lefty persuasion (godless or not).

Remember, Iris loves you! Unless of course she doesn’t!

__________

UPDATE 1:

This just in:

NYC Election Day: Long lines, lots of voters, plenty of angst across the five boroughs

Lines outside some city polling locations already came with a long wait within three hours of the 6 a.m. start opening, with the sites open until 9 p.m.

Read the Latest

Where’s that klonopin?

__________

UPDATE 2:

I clicked the link to Read the Latest:

Voters wore masks and observed social distancing in the year of pandemic and a presidential race pitting President Trump against ex-Vice President Joe Biden.

Voters who wear masks and observe social distancing are almost certainly not Trump voters. So, you know, that’s good.

Also: klonopin achieved.

UPDATE 3:

Got your popcorn and your beverage of choice?

Hahaha. Remember our good friends at The Lincoln Project, that gaggle of wealthy, well-connected, #NeverTrumpers and self-styled “ex-Republicans” who put up the ivanka and Jared billboards in Times Square (and then shat so gloriously all over their threats of a libel suit)? Yesterday, they got Hans Solo Indiana Jones Harrison Ford to record the narration for a new anti-Trump ad:

It’s good, right? And Harrison sounds so somber and authoritative we could almost forget that he is associated with The Lincoln Project.

Don’t get me wrong: I absolutely looooove it when conservatives eat their own. But the enemy of my enemy here is NOT my friend. The enemy of my enemy is my entertainment. There’s a very big difference.

Let us not lose sight of who these people are. The Lincoln Project is a PAC formed last year to put Trump on blast via social media and other outlets (billboards!). From what we know we can deduce a few things.

• Like all conservatives, these assholes are amoral. Why else would they have kept silent for four years about Mitch McConnell or Lindsey Graham? These are Trump’s greatest enablers, without whose slavish obedience he could have been put in check.
• Which leads me to believe they vehemently despise Donald Trump personally. And of course they truly detest his Merry Maskless MAGA Minions, who in previous election cycles were known as the Tea Party. These Lincoln Projecteers are only too happy to sit on the sidelines while Trump & Co. pack every federal court and agency chock full with right-wing loons and partisans.
• Which reminds me of that one time a different undesirable, lower caste outsider came to town, having had the sheer audacity to win a presidential election on a major party ticket. Worse, the usurper hailed from the state of Arkansas – Arkansas! – and brought with him an infamously presumptuous wife. The Beltway cognoscenti were appalled. The word in their rarefied (and fully bi-partisan) circles was that these bumptious bumpkins were coming to ruin everything, what with their hillbilly ways and provincial tastes. Why, the Oval Office would soon resemble a chicken coop! Would there be live chickens running around in there?! Calico curtains?! My. God.

  All of that would be awful enough, but the real tragedy for the country would be the effect of this calamity on Peggy Noonan‘s dinner parties. Would the real power brokers and permanent power factions in DC ever again enjoy apéritifs in the comforting company of their True Peers with these yahoos around? Traditional bipartisan plotting performed with exquisitely silver-tongued civility – excuse me, darling? could you pass the amuse-bouches? – would be a thing of the past. If the ignorant, unwashed masses were going to vote one of their own into the highest office in the land? Well. Something would have to be done about this “democracy” nonsense.
  

Lincoln Project? Second verse, same as the first.

Also: klonopin achieeeeeeved, if you know what I mean.