Why I Can’t, Won’t and Never Will Vote for Hillary Clinton

So, some folks have asked me why I don’t like Hillary Clinton. Honestly, I don’t have a real policy-related reason for disliking her. Granted, I could try to articulate why it is that she irks me, and I could try to say that she’s condescending, irritating, smarmy. However, that’d be a waste of time. I’m against Hillary Clinton for one simple reason.

I was born in 1984. Of the 23 years that I’ve been alive, the President of the United States has been a Bush or a Clinton for 19 going on 20. If Hilldog were to be elected, that would move the figure up to 24 out of 28 years. A quarter of a century. Something is wrong with that. If you’d like to get really technical about it, there’s been a Bush or a Clinton in the White House every year of my and my friend’s lives. Let’s not forget about Vice President George Herbert Walker Bush!

I’m not even saying a like Barack Obama, but let’s kick the Clintons to the curb and get some people in office who can let people abort their fetuses, give me health insurance and handouts, feed the hungry and blast “Across the Universe” to the North Star.

New York City, What’s Up?

After having decried the puritanical, repressed and awful climate of The Hub, I’d like to extol the virtues of America’s metropolis New York City. Here are a couple of things I enjoyed while on a recent sojourn to The Big Apple.

1. A store called “Shoegasm“: People, it turns out, are really into feet and foot related accessories, namely Shoes. While traipsing about some area of Manhattan trolling for a gay bar, my friends and I passed the storefront of this shoe purveyor. I think these folks should let me handle their press. Consider the following slogans:

We’ve got tight shoes for your hard feet.

Those pair of shoes have been around the block and back!

I think everyone’s walked a mile in that shoe…

If you’re going to wear that shoe, make sure you wear a sock.

Sha… Sha… Sha… Shaaaaa. SHOOOOOOOEEEEssssss!!!!

Etc.

2. Lance Bass: So, Lance decided to make an appearance at this rather unremarkable bar called “Black and White” also in Manhattan. He arrived while I was outside indulging my nicotine habit, and I instantly recognized him as being famous, but could not come up with his name. It wasn’t until he’d entered the bar that I correctly identified him as “the gay Nysnc member who wanted to take a little trip into outerspace.” I tried to nonchalantly confirm this with the bouncer, but ended up making it seem like I had a low opinion of Lance–who happens to be a good friend of the bouncer, or so he told me–when I in fact have no opinion of Lance. Oh well. My friends chatted him up a bit and remarked that he was exceptionally smiley, more smiley than any one man should be. The picture here about sums that up.