Here's Johnny!...And Here's Little Johnny, Too, Apparently.
John Edwards.
Really? Oy.
Pretend, for a moment, that you find yourself in possession of a giant bucket full of lukewarm oatmeal.
Then, pretend that you turn that bucket of lukewarm oatmeal upside down so that the lukewarm oatmeal lands, say, on your driveway.
Imagine the sound of that lukewarm oatmeal hitting the asphalt.
If my emotional response to the news that John Edwards had an affair with a yoga instructor while his long-suffering wife recovered from cancer bout #1 had a soundtrack, it would be that lukewarm oatmeal hitting the asphalt.
Really? Oy.
Pretend, for a moment, that you find yourself in possession of a giant bucket full of lukewarm oatmeal.
Then, pretend that you turn that bucket of lukewarm oatmeal upside down so that the lukewarm oatmeal lands, say, on your driveway.
Imagine the sound of that lukewarm oatmeal hitting the asphalt.
If my emotional response to the news that John Edwards had an affair with a yoga instructor while his long-suffering wife recovered from cancer bout #1 had a soundtrack, it would be that lukewarm oatmeal hitting the asphalt.
I understand, but my emotional response would have sounded more like a hollow thunk followed by an accordion wheeze. Good God.
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At least you still have an emotional response to a politician poking. I must be a super cynic, because my reaction was, "Hmmm, him too?"
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Nice description. Really nice. I'll try not to steal it.
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