The Debate’s On? Really?

Well boll my weevil and corn my pone, seems like Donald ignored my and everybody else’s advice and decided to go ahead and take the debate stage tonight. I can hardly believe it. Does he know something we don’t? Has he learned how not to be his quintessential self? Has somebody taught him somehow to behave like an adult instead of toddler in need of a diaper change? For 90 minutes? Or is he going to stand there losing his grip and blathering about sharks and electric boats? Will the moderators call him on his lies and general bullshit? Will he pitch a fit when they mute his microphone so Biden can speak? Is this going to be an epic train wreck, or a boring non-event?

I can’t bear to watch it. I’ll find out later, when the cable news folks do their usual post-game analysis schtick. My decision not to tune in isn’t just about preserving my sanity; you see, every time I watch a high stakes competition my side loses. Every goddam time. A couple of days back it was the Oilers. I can’t risk it being Joe tonight.

Actually, it might be a sort of rewards program for my vanishingly tiny readership if, before every big contest, I tell you who I’m hoping for. You can then bet against me and make a mint.

Maybe I’ll check in later with some thoughts, supposing I have any.