But when I see the tongue action he showed during the debate, the weird facial expressions, the strange gait and the wandering, it actually gets to be too much schaden for my fruede.

Part of me is laughing but a larger part is going, “Will somebody get that poor SOB a CAT scan? He’s having some kind of stroke or seizure — he needs to see a doctor, right now.”

I can’t stand it when my hate fails me. When I can’t laugh at the death spasms of a despicable man it just ain’t right.

That’s what I need to do. Spend a little time focusing on how corrupt he is, how spoiled he is, how he makes the crassest kinds of political moves based on his personal misfortunes, and how he’s trying to stick us with a Palin (“What’s the difference between a soccer mom and a pit bull? The pit bull actually has foreign relations experience/had her office tastefully decorated on her own dime/doesn’t have connections to domestic terrorist organizations.”) presidency.

Then I’ll go and watch the Saxophobia mix of the debates on YouTube, imagining the capillaries in his brain giving way, and let the natural healing power of hate bring a smile to my face.