The State of the Union is ... Ugh

This fine and sunny day, I look and feel like Death microwaved on the ‘Jiffy Pop!’ setting because of an unfortunate drinking game played last night during our Fearless Leader’s State of the Union address, a speech whose only value to humanity is that it preempted Ice Skating With Celebrities or Dancing with the Stars or Dry-Humpin’ with the B-List or whatever variety show my fellow Americans are choosing to boil their brains with these days. To wit:

When Fearless Leader mentions ‘Iraq,’ ‘tyranny,’ ‘homeland security,’ or ‘September the 11th,’ take a drink.

When Fearless Leader mentions the legality of wiretapping, drain your glass.

When Fearless Leader says the economy is doing great, drain the nearest drinking buddy’s glass. Explain to them that you’re just doing what your average CEO is doing to the American worker.

When Fearless Leader mentions healing the partisan disunity in the nation’s capitol, turn around and slug the conservative next to you.

Having spent the last six years pushing a major transformative vision for this country that only got a lot of people killed and money squandered, Fearless Leader is now reverting to the form that everyone expected back on that snowy day in January 2000: tentatively offering a middling agenda with neither sound nor fury. The speech took 52 minutes and ended up killing a whole lot of my brain cells, and now I feel like a secondary character in a Bukowski novel, only sitting in front of a Mac with my headphones tinkling ‘Tiny Vessels’ instead of filling a Chicago gutter with vomit and existential despond.