I am not feeling too good, folks. I have only myself to blame. Today, for some inexplicable, typically marionesque reason, I decided to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge even though heavy black clouds were hanging so low in the sky, they were almost touching the top arch of the bridge. I calculated miscalculated that I could cross the bridge before the clouds blew up. I did not have an umbrella.
Boy. Lemme tell you something. By the time I reached the first arch? I was dripping wet to the point that water was running from my clavicle, down to my belly button, as if I wasn’t even wearing clothes. By that point? a woman who it turns out was named Alice from the UK (a tourist) and who was equally drenched offered to let me share her umbrella, but it was useless. I was even wearing my pink Converse-inspired sneakers and so my toes were basically swimming in pools of water. My bag? Which was zipped up? Could not withstand the force of the rain which penetrated small openings, sogging my client files like you would not believe; water was pouring from it. Yes, it was leaking. My bag was actually leaking!
My hair? Girrrl…..lemme tell you: it was like, I had, um, this gel in my hair? and it was like, mixed with the rain and the combination like poured down my face in a misty consistency? giving me like this sensation that I would go blind if it didn’t stop. 
I didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. I felt both emotions very very strongly as the rain beat down on me at the top of the bridge. Finally, the laughing urge won out because the situation was so very ludicrous, and I started to laugh hysterically. And water just kept on dripping. Nobody else was laughing. It’s like they were trapped in the open space on the bridge, getting annihilated by the rain, and not knowing whether to just stand there and take it, or run for cover.
You had to be there. You really really had to be there.  I had to return home instead of go to the law library to do some emergency research for a case (cause even for me, showing up to the law library like that would have been effing insane) and so I got home and removed all the wetness, and dried myself and put on some warm clothes and fell into bed where I fell into a nap. And then when I woke up, I realized I wasn’t feeling too good. I am in pain, I am achy and I just don’t feel too kosher.
But then the blog must go on. So I got up and I’m sitting here at my computer.  I just read on the Internet that the governor of some state…which is it?…. Oh, South Carolina, had tearfully confessed that while the media had been hoodwinked into thinking he’d gone off to Appalachia to clear his head and write? homeboy was really in Beunos Aires with a “dear friend” having an adulterous tryst (ON FATHER’S DAY WEEKEND!!!!) while his wife Jenny was left at home with their young sons wondering where he was at.
And so he had to step down from the Republican something or the other and everybody is so SHOCKED. And I’m here thinking to myself, who gives a-?
I mean, honestly, what is the big shock? I was almost washed into the East River this afternoon by vicious rain gusts and I need to worry about Mark Sanford governor of South Carolina’s little tryst with his Argentinian friend and the GOP’s fake friggin morality to boot? Are you fricking kidding me???????
Look, folks, the adultery comes with the marriage in the same way the herniated disc comes with the car in a personal injury case. Alright? So get over it and give the man his job back.  I am sick to death of this pecksniffian GOP frigging crap. I really, really am…..and I am sure there will be no divorce cause his wife Jenny’s made it pretty clear that she wants him back and that he is “welcome” to come back home.
That’s the only thing with these cheating fricking Lotharios, ladies. They got too many bloody options and either way they cut that cake they are going to eat it. But some one of those ladies is going to have a heart break for a really, really, really long time….did he use taxpayer’s money to finance that trip to Argentina? Did he take a private gubernatorial jet when tax payers are having a hard time paying their cell phone bills in this recession?
You know what? On second thought, imprison the bastard.