The vote.

Unless you've been in hiding, you know all about the history-making U.S. election. Hell, if you were in hiding, shut off from all forms of human contact, you'd have heard about it somehow. Probably some busybody woodland creature.
All I know is, I can't wait for this to be over. My raucous – but well-meaning – neighbours to the South are hard to ignore. I couldn't go to gigposters without six or more election-related threads clogging up space usually reserved for tits and bacon for the past year.
I've been keeping my mouth shut about the whole thing because:

1. I'm a Canuck.
2. As a Canuck, I can't vote.
3. I'm a lover, not a fighter, so political discourse ain't my cup of tea.

Thing is, voices that share similar opinions to mine have come out of the woodwork, so it feels a little safer to say stuff. Here's what I've been saying to few folks when asked about the election:
Yeah, I know what the polls are saying, but I'm not seeing America put a Black man – never mind a half-Black man – in the highest office in the country, arguably the most powerful political position in the world. As Marvel and Saukrates said, hate runs deep.

But hey, I've got a long-ass public record of being fucking wrong.

So, with that said, if my Mom's heartthrob is successful today, I wish him all the best. And I fear for his safety.
C'mon...you were thinking it, too. I know I ain't alone.
Anyway, I didn't mean to get all heavy on ya. Had to get that off of my chest.
I'd rather be talking about tits and bacon.