I could talk about the big Bush administration indictments, but, really, what the hell do I know about that. I know it's funny, I know it's typical, I know it's overdue. I know it's ridiculous for a grown adult government official to be consistently referred to as "Scooter," and of course every media source lies down and does it. Scooter? The weakest of the Go-Bots? To date, I've found one article that talks about Lewis Libby, not I. Lewis "Scooter" Libby. "Scooter." What a choad.

The point is - and I wish the American public would pick up on this - is that all policiticians are thieving, asskissing, holier-than-thou, incestuous liars. Every one. You can't get into politics without being like that. It's like how you can't become a mechanic without knowing how to fix cars. The city council member who is pushing a new ballpark to help his brother-in-law's construction firm will be the state representative who votes for a pay raise at 1:00am and will be the senator whose voting record is determined by his personal investments. The only legitmate checks and balances system that we have is the hope that enough politicians on Team B will be persuing backalley porkbarrel legislature that is directly opposed to the backalley porkbarrel legislature being shoved forth by Team A. That's it. The whole notion that Democrats are better than Republicans are better than Democrats is naive, dangerous idiocy. Our sole solution is the revolving door method of voting 'em in and then voting 'em out (and, sadly, that's only applicable to the jerks in electable positions.) Anybody in there longer than a decade is a criminal.

Or I could talk about yesterday's Daddy Day with Clark. Daycare was closed but Rhon still had to work... and she is out of vacation days so I took the day off to be with him. Nothing noteworthy occurred. We watched Peep and the Big Wide World, ate breakfast, napped for an hour, played, ate lunch, napped for three hours, played, and then Mommy was home.

I have recently noticed that I still have marks on both of my ankles, where my new dress shoes were biting into me during the entirety of our trip to Seoul. See, knowing that sneakers or sandals would make us appear too casual, and that we really wanted to pack super-light since we were going so far and coming back with so much more, we decided to semi-dress up for the whole trip. Shoes, slacks, light-but-reputable shirts for gadding about. Not my usual Hawaiian shirt plus Nintendo t-shirt plus jeans plus sandals affair. Of course, me being a slob, I didn't even own dress shoes. So we had to run out to Target and buy me brand new dress shoes, like, the night before we got on the plane. Naturally, new shoes need to be broken in... and I can tell you that walking around the streets of Seoul is no place to break in new shoes. My ankles were a bloody mess by mid-trip. And now they very well may be permanently scarred where the skin ripped apart horizontally.

But I don't mind these scars at all. I sort of hope they do stick around forever.

However, I'm not looking forward to the next time I have to wear dress shoes. (Which, if I have my way, won't be until Clark's wedding.)

So there's two topics I suppose I could blog about.