come git yer shaud 'n freude!

This past weekend I returned to the glorious green mounts of vermont for some graduation celebration and all-around shin-diggery. A great time was had by most, though that's not the point. What I mean to say is, the whole thing made me freakin sad.

Now I'm back in new york stinkin' city, and somehow I am thoroughly missing those vermont for life-in', broomballin', vermont forward and back takin', champ-spottin', volvo/subaru/saab drivin', outdoor gear wearin', freshnetwork-sustainable-organic-veggie only-eatin' hippies, hillbillies, hipsters, hip-yups, and the whole rest of those wacky weirdos who love them some freakouts on church street. I love those crazy coagulated gravy hotdog bun bastards living up there, and truly they are ones in a millions.



And so I'm thinking that maybe I should take my tax-hiking, government-expanding, latte-drinking, sushi-eating, Volvo-driving, New York Times-reading, Hollywood-loving, left-wing freak show back to Vermont, where it belongs.

Note: end portions of this post may have been taken from a HoDean attack-ad from the glorious Club for Growth Political Action Committee, die-hard supporters of Git r Dun Bush.