-Chucked my Chucks at the “Give Bush the Boot” blow-up doll. All kiddies should throw tied pairs over the Bush schnozz as an alternative to telephone wires.
-Made party banter with the man himself:
-Look! We even have the same glasses! We were made for each other.
-Sleeping on a floor with seven people, to rise at the rump crack of dawn and march with millions to the National Mall.
-Favorite comments overheard in the peanut gallery: “Party time!” and “Are those the slut twins?” when the Bush girls came out. Also…”OOH Rahm Emanuel! Mmm! Obama sure did give us somethin good to look at for the next four years!”…”Joe Lieberman- that’s the traitor! We know about politics!”
-Deafening cheers and claps of gloved hands sounding like thunder for Reverend Lowery’s perfect wrap-up: Lord…we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get in back, when brown can stick around, when yellow can be mellow, when the red man can stick around, man, and when white will embrace what is right. The good Rev. brung it, and he brung it old school.
-Leaving the Mall with mobs of people, I hear “there it goes!” and look up just in time to see Bush’s helicopter lift off from the Capitol Building to the White House…for the last time. Forever and ever, amen.
It’s a celebration Bicoastal Bitches!