Takin' Out The Trash

So I guess you heard by now that I got cut, Diary. Ain't no thing; Chris Hunter is a good young kid, and I hope he has a nice career. Plus, fuck basketball. Because even though Copenhagen was a bust and this public-option-free AetnaCare™ monstrosity is about to pass, I've got a warm, fuzzy progressive feeling right now. One reason why? I'm not the only guy who's about to be out of a job.

GTFO, Dodd, you Wall-Street-cozyin' bitch! I'm not a huge Blumenthal guy, but at least he's baggage-free. And Dorgan... look, Dorgan was a pretty liberal vote for NDak, but I'm getting tired of dudes like that. It's like Kos sez -- better to have 50 liberals than 70 Democrats. Tents should only grow so big. Addition by subtraction. You heard it here first, diary.

But that's not the really exciting thing. As soon as this bone spur situation clears up, I'm headin' down to the FEC and starting my own political action committee! That's right, diary -- after years of talk, we're finally getting MikkiPAC off the ground. I don't turn 35 till November, but there's no time like the present to start laying foundations and glad-handing. I still haven't decided if I want the Green Party nomination or if I want to splinter-sect that shit. A lot of it comes down to whether or not I come up with a cool enough name for a separatist party. Top two choices right now: "DINOS No Moore" and "Mikki No Likey Regulatory Capture". Both good, but maybe there's something better. If you come up with any ideas, diary, lemme know.

Gotta jet... cleaning out my political closet this weekend, making sure we're good skeleton-wise. First order of business: figuring out if my cleaning lady is an illegal or not.