...Back...Forth...
Welp, the presidency has been decided, but sadly one of our candidates... Hmm... Al G.? Nah, that's too obvious, A. Gore... he still can't face reality. I ask the Democrats out there, do you REALLY want to support this crybaby?
Oh, wait, that's right, our other choice is a killcrazy businessmad Republican Texan. Perfect. We're fucked over either way. And anyhoo, I didn't vote due to our appaling choice of losers for president.
What'll this result in? Every tree-hugging Democrat will start complaining that "Democracy is now dead, all our freedom is lost, all our lovely country is dead". Every corporation-loving Republican will scream "Justice is served and all our freedom will be lost and all our lovely country will be dead if Gore challenges and wins". Whine whine whine.
Anybody here know how little power the president actually has? So, I say, stop bitching about the president and SUPPORT YOUR FUCKING CONGRESSPEOPLE/SENATORS. THEY'RE the ones that make the damn laws.
1:10 PM EST -- A ring in the daytime
There I was, happily playing Banjo-Tooie, when the phone suddenly rang. Having no phone in the floor of the house I was in, I couldn't answer it. (My family takes the wireless phone wherever in the house they are) My brother, however, did. The call came from Ravelco, the small stamping shop my grandfather works in.
My bro yells, "What's dad's pager number?" I respond with the appropriate numbers. I do not quite know what was going on at this point.
2:06 PM EST -- Arrival, departure
The phone rings again. My brother answers it again.
Just then, my dad arrives home, simply asking, "What happened? Your grandfather had a heart attack?" I suddenly realized what had happened. My grandfather had a heart attack in the shop.
But, as I was about to learn, that was the least of his troubles now.
"Yes, and that call was just from the hospital]," my brother replied.
"Grandpa's dead."
He always said he'd die in that shop...
Rest in peace, grandfather.