Democrats, doves and senior hefting

WAAAHOOOOOO!
The Democrats are kicking ass all over this country! AND best of all, that freaky Amway conservative, Dick DeVos DID NOT WIN!! Yes! I'm all about Jennifer Granholm and Debbie Stabenow. Oh, I am so thankful Amway freak did not win.

And I'm pretty sure the doves are having loud, celebratory parties all over Michigan right now too. So they should. As I told my father, if you feel the need to shoot something so little.... I mean, really. What can possibly be left of a frickin' morning dove after you shoot it, right? A foot, a blackend beak?
Go to Ted Nugents backyard of yahoo delights, shoot some live creature, stroke your penis/ego, then go back to Krogers and buy your meat like you always do.
Ridiculous. And my dad isn't even a hunter. He just doesn't like birds because they "shit on his car". Grrrr.
(for those of you who don't know, that was one of the proposals here: whether the Bow Hunters for Bush {or whoever they are} could legally shoot doves.) I'm sorry, hunters in our oh-so-urban setting make me crazy.


Tonight I had a good night with my senior client. He finally got into his new HoverRound wheelchair thingie. His confidence soared! It was truly fun to see him get the hang of this machine (he tried a month ago and hated it). He was buzzing around for close to 2 hours. Even made me pull the car out of the garage so he could wheel around there. There was a problem though. Dismantling. He has one very weak leg and the other is prosthetic. He can stand shakily and momentarily. He was trying to get out of the fancy machine and into his wheelchair. He wisely had me settle him near the bed to attempt to stand, move over and sit again. He fell flat on his face on the bed. Could not get himself up. Laying atop of the arm that doesn't work. I braced myself and heaved. My back is so jacked up. Right in the middle. No stretching can fix it. I think he must weigh 220 or so. I picked him up to a fully sitting position. Bloody hell.
Sweet Kate my massage friend will be getting a pleading call from me in the morning.

Time for bed. I should read some midwifery and not Terry Pratchett. But the Pratchett is soo funny.
Tried reading Michel Houllebecq's new book: The Possibility of an Island. Ugh. Could not get into at all. And I'm an OCD, must-read-book-cover-to-cover type of girl. I had to put it down after 40 pages of shite. Blech. Greg trudged on, was surprisingly not-squeamish about how bad it was. VO, you read it?