Every old person remembers the hit song, “Love Rollercoaster.” I guess other versions have been done since the Seventies, but the version I recall is the disco original. I liked the song a lot better than I do the experience of actually riding on a rollercoaster. I’m one of those people who scream and throw up.
The Republican primary season is turning into a rollercoaster ride. And I don’t think it’s a rollercoaster of love.
By now, my post about Mitt coasting to victory already seems quaintly nostalgic. Or just plain clueless. I must say that I don’t know what is going to happen next. I give up on trying to predict how it will all end.
I want the ultimate nominee to be whoever can go on to beat President Obama in November. When she was asked, today on FOX, whether she wanted Obama to face Mitt or Newt, Debbie Gynocological Procedure never got around to answering the question. All she did was fly into campaign spin mode.
And they’d better campaign like crazy. Not that it will do them any good.
I just HAVE to make predictions. I can’t seem to help myself…