And we’re back from the Bush Blackout. I want to give a special shout out to Jamie, who I suspect (due to her disappointed sounding email) spent the whole 24 hours without being able to enjoy my witty commentary crying into a pillow somewhere. She’s a trooper, though– I’m sure she, and you, pulled through just fine.

Oh, buddy. Oooooh, buddy. You asked for it now. You got it coming now, buddy.

You’ve been looking at me wrong since I walked in here. But talking to my girl is the last step. It’s the straw that broke the camel’s back, pal. It’s the needle in the haystack!

Because as soon as I finish this beer, it is on.

That’s right, friend. It’s on. It is on. Currently it’s off, but when I drown this mix of barley, malt, and grain, I will take the switch and I will flip it from one side to the other, moving it from a position of “off” to one of “on.” That’s right, on. “It” will be “on.”

And trust me, you don’t want to be here when it’s on. No, you don’t. When it’s on, pain will radiate from all of my appendages. I will become a machine of revenge, a deliverer of devastation. “It” going “on,” is definitely something you don’t want, chief. When it’s on, you’ll be in trouble, and you better believe it.

What is “it”? Well, I guess that it could be many things. My anger towards you and your behaviors. My blinding rage against your actions. Or maybe it is something more physical, the movement of the air inbetween us from me pushing my fists to destructive effect in your direction. Or maybe “it” is something less personal. Maybe “it” is the feeling of peace quickly escaping from this room, from this relationship and life that we’ve built here together as humanity. But rest assured, pal, that “it” is going to be “on.” Also, when “it” does come on, rest assured something bad will happen. To you!

I knew you’d be trouble from the minute I walked in. That’s why I flicked you off earlier. I know my girl was looking at you the whole time, but trust me, she’s with me, and nobody messes with that. We just met earlier tonight at some club, and I know she might be a little drunk, but she already told me she loved me. Well, she said she loved my shirt. She said she liked the buttons. But it doesn’t matter, because she came with me, and by talking to her, you’ve made me do something I didn’t want to do: turn it on. It will be on.

Look at this, I’ve almost finished. There is no more than a few eights of an inch of watery beer between you and “it” going “on.” In fact, I’m still feeling a little peckish. Even now, my throat is asking for a little more beer, for a last swallow of alcohol to cleanse my dusty pallet. I think I might just down the rest of this–

Whoah.

Wait a minute.

Are those guys with you? All of them?

What are you guys, like a football team?

Weightlifting? Oh, yeah, I see it now. Right, in Athens. I saw that on TV. Right, with the gold medals and the weights. Those things looked kind of heavy.

Listen, guys, about this beer– I think I may just be done with it. I think maybe I’m full up for the evening. I know, I know I said I was thirsty, and there’s only a little bit left, but I think I might just be done for the night. I have to get up a little early, and I think it just might be about my bedtime. I think– whoo, look at the time, I think I might just pay my tab and head out.

What? My girl? Oh, well. She’s not really mine, actually, we just met a little while ago. Her name is Nancy. Or Stacy. She likes buttons, I think. But listen, I really do have to go, so..

What’s that? “It”? Ah. Well, I was kind of planning to turn it on, but I think I may not do that. No “it” tonight, I reckon. Nope, sorry. I think I may just let you guys off easy and leave “it” off. But thanks for everything guys. Have fun. Say bye to Stacy for me. Or Nancy.

I’m just going to, uh, I’m just going to head out now. Which way’s the door again?