First the Veep, then the Weep

I'm as sappy as a mugful of Canadia's maple finest.

It's true.

I've been moved to tears by a tender McDonald's commercial.

And I've been a vegetarian since the Carter Administration.
















So you can imagine how misty I got over the whole I-Have-a-Dream-that-one-day-little-black-delegates-and-little-white-
delegates-will-join-together-and-nominate-someone-who-actually-
has-a-chance-in-hell-of-beating-the-Republican thing.

Maybe I wasn't exactly bawling for Barack. Not waving the Sobama for President sign.

But still, I was as choked up as joked up as I watched the speech tonight.

Pardon my getting so emotional. It's just been a rather historically significant week.



I frolicked in a field of bison.









Lounged in lovely Lake Tahoe.








Redeemed more than just my Frequent Flyer miles.









And proved that a Democrat could actually cry tears of JOY about a presidential election.

Once the nominee finished his speech, I composed myself long enough to scarf down a couple of the Obama cupcakes neighbor Charity served up for the occasion.

How exactly are they Obama cupcakes? I asked.

Well, they're black Charity answered.

Apparently negro is actually just an antiquated way to say chocolate.

I'm not sure what that means about German Chocolate Cake.

But if Obama can bring us a hot cocoa in every pot, I'm pretty sure he's got the women's vote locked down.