Bye Bye, love

I'm under the gun with this topic. It's been a crazy week. To explain my haste, perhaps now is a good time to point out an important office rule at Today's Snow Job. We believe in currency. No, not the cheddar. We check that like food inspectors. I mean regular posting. Naturally, none of your faithful writers have ever been accused of being less than completely committed to keeping your gReader inbox filled with tasty work-stalling temptations, but we like to utilize cold threats in order to keep us in line. To that end, our rule is this: if one of us misses a week's response to the topic du semaine, our fellow staffers get to masquerade as the offending writer, and post whatever they please.

A fate worse than death: the tarnishing of an iReputation. And I'm about to be overdue on my post. Thus, herewith.

Fuck: Caroline Kennedy
It's so not cheating the question. As one of three nominees for Obama's actual veep-vetting team, she is a pivotal player in the HBO neo-soap that is the current phase of Decision '08. As such, she needs praise, she needs encouragement, she needs well-earned stress relief. I'm not saying that I personally am a just desert for all her efforts/needs; believe it or not, this game is largely hypothetical (if not entirely mastrubatory--though maybe Caroline and I can help each other out). Neither am I suggesting that Mr. busy-busy-interior-designer Schlossberg isn't performing his marital responsibilities regularly. Only that, given Sweet Caroline's tireless service to the Obama campaign machine, girl deserves some groupie lovin'. Is there--or has there ever been--a Pamela Des Barres of the American electoral parade? ("Interns," you say? Don't be silly, I have worked with interns and they are all nuns and monks.) This could be the ultimate field trip for the wayward, green, idealogically frustrated polisci grads of America. (Or Canada? Can one obtain a visa for deep-job-shadowing? If you ain't no retard, holla "we want green card!")

Ahem, anyway. I would make apologies for sharking vastly older women, except Shmuel has already (indirectly) admitted to lurking in the Today's Snowjob basement, fooling around with Mr. Angry Potato-Head. The gloves are off.

Marry: Wesley Clark
Having just attended a rocking wedding, I have nuptial thoughts on the brain (I also have a hangover on the brain; apologies in advance for typos/bad judgments). In contrast to the popular romantic notion of accepting your mate out of the factory with all of his/her attendant flaws, there exists the much more populist approach of hankering down to some serious post-marriage soulmate-improvement. Bring in the fixer-upper at a bargain (goes the argument), and you'll have an affectionate 'other for life.  Yes, Wes most likely banished himself from Obama's cabinet, let alone the VP ticket, with his incautious remarks on July 1st.  Yet, ladies, Wes remains a provisional catch, and with a little passive-aggressive badgering, he could be much better. He could, for example, try avoiding making gaffes in criticizing the other team's lack of real military experience and its irrelevance to the oval office. Clark, after all, is brimming with Tom Clancy-esque war stories--such as leading his company on in Vietnam after being capped four times with an AK-47--and ostensibly this experience could have lent some political heft to Obama's foreign policy positions. At least, they might have, if Clark was univocally against the Iraq Resolution, which he appears to not be sure about at all. Less flip-flopping, more soundbite-worthy responses in debates. As a fellow with purported professorial aspirations, it shouldn't be surprising to hear him respond to pointed yes-or-no questions with a grey response, but them media-jackals like to speak in binary. This is the digital age. Sweetie, clarify your position on authorized use of force! And don't chew with your mouth full!  Maybe, by 2016, I can take you out in public.

Kill: Evan Bayh
In an effort to provide some contrast to my peers' positions (and to attempt to cover up my incapacity to discuss this topic at their level), I'm leaving HRC out of this. To paraphrase David Plotz, "the number one problem with Clinton as VP is Bill. The second is Hillary." Exchange rank as you see fit. But look. As this goes to print, now that Shmuel's BFF is out of the race, Bayh for VP is being publicly bought at USD$7.8, twenty cents above the last Bill Richardson bid, but at less than half the going price for Hillary (I don't really understand that website, but I am intrigued). That makes him one preference below the first (mistake) for some quantity of armchair pundits who suck at poker. Furthermore, a DC blog points out that ObamaBayh08.com forwards to the Democratic Party's website (generally a smart move; Apple waited and had to buy iphone.com from Linksys at great expense; however other domain name combos with the names of other veep hopefuls have not been bought or forwarded). Yet, the man is clinically deceased. He's an incarnate monotone. His soul is monotone. He makes flat-fingered gesticulations with alternating hands every 4.7 seconds. He should be narrating relaxation tapes. His voice makes me want to be buoyant in a calm, flat pool. He's like a documentary about sand. He's like a Bergman film, only not as funny.

Bayh-Bayh, love.  If I'm not fired for any of the above, I'll be back later in the week.