The Fates Conspire Against Me

I haven't caught much of the convention. On Tuesday, I had to work late. Tonight, the power goes out. While I'm in the shower. In a windowless bathroom. Took a towel rack down with me as I groped my way out. At least I didn't impale myself or crack my skull open. Or break a hip, like Bob Novak.

Tomorrow can only bring electrocution.

The only thing that might redeem this week is John McCain's vice president pick. If it's Muff or Holy Joe Lieberman, this could be the best week ever.