Let the public flogging begin...

Ah. I feel comforted having this around.

All this political crap being shoveled in my direction from all sides. I can't even turn on my computer without being bombarded with images of John McCain's new running mates over blushed face assulting my eyes.

Even Perez Hilton has turned on me. Do you know he is one of the most powerful forces in the media? Starting his own record label, making or breaking starlets, controlling the box office. And now, since he draws penises all over John McCain's face and calls this Alaskian governor anti-gay, I somehow know who she is.

I willingly admit that I am the worst sort of American there is. I care much more about the fake fighting of Heidi Montag and Lauren Conrad than I do about the democratic national convention. I did care about politics when I was 18 or so. Then I made the mistake of voting for Bush. We all know how that turned out, and, as atonement, I have sacrificed my brain to the bubblegum lifestyle of the Girls Next Door and other reality gray matter zappers.

So, this Sarah Palin woman. I don't know. I guess I am supposed to feel like this is a really great step forward for women and blah blah blah.

But really, do you suppose she feels a little bit used? Like, oh, hey, I am pretty much being chosen as this old man's running mate because I have a vagina? Is it really that much different from the Girls Next Door? Some fairly unknown girl hanging around some crypt keeper to help his career. This is why I don't do politics. Because it stops being about what's best for the country and starts being about tactics and competition. I hate that.

Chris, fact-check this. But I bet you I am the first person to compare Sarah Palin to a Playboy bunny.

Take that, blogosphere.