Between tonight and Tuesday I’ll be in Pennsylvania trying to get the kid above elected president of the United States. If you have any friends or relatives in Pennsylvania, consider calling them and telling them that they too should make special voting booth sexytime with the candidate on Tuesday. Or, thanks to the 2008 miracle of phone banking from home, call total strangers in the Keystone State and pass along that message. If you don’t have anything to do this weekend, consider heading up to Philadelphia where I surmise they need volunteers for canvassing and phone banking, based on the roughly 148 phone calls I’ve gotten in the past week from the campaign seeking help.
Myself, I’ll be in “Eriesistible” Erie, ancestral homeland of the Bird clan on both the maternal and paternal sides. I’ll be catching a few minutes with relatives who haven’t seen me since I was wearing Jams and extolling the virtues of the My Little Pony Paradise Estate. Translation: free lodging and all the perogies and Genesse beer my tummy can accommodate. I’ll be staying in an early 1900s-era convent. No foolies. My aunt’s a nun. We’ll see if lightning strikes when I step foot inside, or if I get shanked, because all the nuns (being the good progressives that they are in this particular order) are Hillary fans. It’ll be worth being in hostile territory if I can get one of them to shrug and say, “Bitch is the new black.”